Dead Ringer
by missingJane
Summary: A killer is stalking a small Texas town, and Jane wants to keep Lisbon away from the investigation. Keeping his wife and little girl safe from a potential serial killer is foremost in his mind. Will he be able to help bring this lunatic to justice, or will he find himself faced with his greatest fear - returning to his darkest days and losing his mind once and for all?
1. So Bossy!

Hello from me! Finally, a new story to pass the long dull winter days. This one has been niggling away at me for a while, so I guess that means I need to let it out to play. I have no idea where this will take me but we'll all find out together, many chapters from now. As usual, I gain no financial benefit from writing Fan Fiction, just a lot of pleasure. All credit goes to Bruno Heller and his wonderful team of writers for creating The Mentalist.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 1

So Bossy!

Every hair had to be in place. What seemed to be errant curls were actually carefully arranged for maximum effect. The man stared at his reflection and smiled that devastating smile that he wielded like a weapon to get exactly what he wanted, from whomever he chose to target. The knowledge that women found him irresistible made his grin deepen as he finger combed his mane of golden locks one final time. Such beautiful hair was a gift to a man already blessed in so many ways.

Over his shoulder the man caught sight of birds gliding through the skies outside his window. Their reflected forms pitched and swooped in his mirror as he took one last look at his reflection before he turned to ease on his coat and gloves. The air was getting nippy now that fall was here and he didn't want to be cold while he worked. With a spring in his step he opened his door and slipped out into the waning afternoon light. Life was good now, very good. Any unhappiness in his past was just that. The past. Every day now was a purposeful one, filled with endless possibilities. For that he would be eternally grateful.

His car was waiting for him as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. A walk would have done him good but he was in a hurry, so he slid behind the wheel of his older model vehicle and pulled away. Five minutes later, the black car merged with an endless line of traffic and became one with the writhing snake of locomotion on the busy main street of Markdale, Texas.

(Austin FBI)

Teresa Lisbon Jane was hunched over her keyboard, completing another in a seemingly endless pile of reports. While the work at the FBI was exciting in short bursts, the tedium of the administrative side of law enforcement had not changed since her days at the CBI so many years ago. She cast a weary eye towards the well worn leather sofa that usually held the relaxed form of her husband, Patrick Jane. He lay there 'thinking' so often that his body had left its exact impression in the soft cushions. Whenever she sat on it waiting for him, she would rub her hands over the seat and inhale his intoxicating scent, permanently impregnated into the burnished leather. Today, he was away, working up a lead that he said could be better done alone. Cho had argued that he needed to be accompanied by another agent, but before he could find someone free to tag along with Jane, he had slipped out and was now on the loose, creating God knew what kind of havoc.

"Has he called in yet?" a voice boomed, interrupting Teresa's daydreaming. She turned to see Cho standing by her desk, his arms crossed and a tiny smirk dimpling his cheeks.

"Of course not! It _is_ Jane we're talking about Cho" she answered. She'd be worried if this case was the slightest bit dangerous, but it involved government accountants skimming profits from books that were being meticulously altered before the auditors could discover their crimes. A tip had alerted the Austin FBI to the crime and soon, with Jane's persistence, they hoped to have the proof they needed to expose the fraud and arrest the perpetrators.

A shrill phone call at Wylie's desk interrupted Cho's response.

"Agent Jason Wylie...yes sir. Uh huh…"

He listened intently. "Oh... okay...one of them? And how's Patrick Jane? Good…" Wylie gave Cho and Lisbon a thumbs up sign.

"Yes sir. I'll tell Senior Agent Cho. They caved that easily? Sure! OK! Bye!"

Wylie turned around to face Cho and Lisbon, and judging from the smile on his face, he had either just won the lottery, or Jane had come through once again.

"Well?" Cho asked.

"That was the local PD. Jane caught both of our suspects trying to flee town with the cooked books. Apparently, when Jane was finished with them, one guy fainted from fright and is being treated by paramedics before being brought in. The other one is in custody and will be brought here by Agent Carlson. We should expect them here soon. They both couldn't wait to point fingers at each other, just as Jane predicted" Wylie finished triumphantly.

"Told you. Piece of cake" smiled Teresa. Cho snorted his reply and sauntered off to his office. Jane would arrive shortly with a tale to tell about how he got both men to betray each other to save their own skins. For Jane, this case was almost too easy, but he was glad he would go home safe once again tonight. With the woman he loved next to him and his three year old daughter Anika, who was in pre-school these days, he would forget about tax frauds, killers and psychopaths, to relax over a cold beer, roast chicken and bedtime fairy tales. A perfect day all around.

The next morning Jane was watching the small flat screen TV on the kitchen countertop as he prepared his tea and Teresa's coffee while their bagels toasted nearby in the toaster oven. Anika was in her small chair playing with a set of tiny plastic dolls as she fed them bits of her cereal. Lisbon strolled in and kissed Anika's cheek.

"Good morning sunshine!" she grinned, marvelling yet again at the simple bliss of home and family, something she never ever thought she would be lucky enough to have in her life. Anika held up a doll, dripping with milk, then went back to jabbering to her toys while Teresa sidled up to Patrick, giving him a kiss as well. Cooing an appreciative "love you" to his sleepy wife, he handed her a hot, super strength jolt of joe to get her motivated for the day. Jane smiled deeply at his little family and then turned his attention back to the TV.

" _The body was found on the front steps of City Hall, leaning against the statue of Abraham Lincoln" said the announcer with disdain. "A sick and depraved act committed by an evil coward. Local police warn the citizens of Markdale to remain vigilant in the face of this newest murder, bringing the total to three now over the course of the past 11 months. While not ready to call this the work of a serial killer, the Police Chief is not discounting the possibility that this is exactly what it may be. The killer has shown that he is not afraid to leave his victims where they will get the maximum amount of attention. Stay safe if you must travel alone. We will give an update as soon as more information comes in to the studio…"_

Jane flicked off the TV, not wanting his daughter to overhear what the announcer was saying and turned to retrieve the bagels from the toaster. He clenched his jaw as he worked, the news having an unsettling effect on him first thing in the morning. His tells were clear to Lisbon and she noted his tension.

"Come and sit with us" she began, indicating his chair.

"I don't know why you watch the news first thing in the morning Patrick. Whatever evil the world has concocted overnight can wait until we get to work."

Jane sat down with his tea and bagel and chewed thoughtfully on his breakfast while Teresa added jam to her warm treat. After a few minutes of silence, Jane looked up at his beloved wife and admitted she had a point. Speaking softly, he smiled and ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

"You're right, as usual. I didn't need to see that first thing. Serial killers and buttered bagels make poor breakfast companions." He smiled at Anika and offered her a bit of his bagel. She grabbed it with two sticky hands and took a large bite.

"Thanks Pappa!"

Happy to see Patrick willing to agree with her suggestion, Teresa added another comment.

"We don't know if that's what's happening in Markdale, Patrick, as far as serial killers are concerned. The local PD will handle it. We have enough to worry about with our own pending cases in Austin without worrying about a small town murderer. Come on, both of you, eat up. We have a couple of stops to make before we get to the office" Teresa said, not wanting Jane to dwell on the possibility of a new serial killer on the loose so close to Austin.

"Mommy's so bossy Kiki!" Jane mugged to Anika as he sipped his tea, patting Teresa's free hand.

"Bossy Mommy!" chanted Anika, seeing how it got her parents' attention.

"Thanks Patrick, just what I need. You partnering up with a 3 year old smarty pants" Teresa teased him. She grinned, making a mental note to move the TV screen back into the den after work later that day.

(8:30 am, Austin FBI)

The elevator doors slid open silently, expelling Jane, Lisbon, Wylie and a few other agents running a bit late for their first appointment. Cho was already standing at a lectern which had been set up in the corner of the large bullpen. Overhead, large flat screens projected images of dead bodies and street views of a small town. Jane ignored the scene and headed to the kitchen to brew his second cup of tea that morning. He came back to find Lisbon, a steaming mug of coffee in hand for her as well. She was sitting in the second row of chairs and waved her husband over. Greeting a few agents along the way as he made his way over to Teresa, he finally sat down with a sigh as he turned to face Cho and whatever bad news was about to be revealed. Judging from the photos, it was going to be grim. As the last of his team found their places, Cho began speaking.

"As some of you may have heard on the news this morning, there have been three murders in and around the small town of Markdale, about 50 miles outside Austin. The local police are trying to maintain calm, but all signs point to these deaths being at the hands of a serial killer. This is what we know so far:

all of the victims were well educated professionals

all were employed in various unrelated medical fields.

all of them were killed at night and when found, were displayed like trophies or dolls in prominent locations around Markdale. Their discovery was meant to instill fear.

there were no obvious signs of a struggle on the bodies except it appears they were bound for a short period of time as shown here (he pointed to ligature marks on the wrists of all three bodies), and then were killed with a dose of cyanide. That piece of information is not being disclosed to the public at the moment to prevent panic. Cyanide kills by effectively destroying the body's ability to take in and use oxygen. The victim suffocates very quickly or slowly, depending on the amount of cyanide in the dose. It is a particularly agonizing death."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the quiet room as the severity of the situation hit the agents. Someone was using a deadly chemical to quietly kill people, a most gruesome and calculated way to murder someone. Cho continued.

"Cyanide is easily available, legally, in the U.S., but usually in very large quantities. Whoever our perp is, he or she is able to get their hands on cyanide outside of regular industrial regulations. Let me stress this: we need to get this one wrapped up fast. If our killer decides to use his supply of cyanide on a much larger group, we wouldn't be able to prevent a mass murder the scale of which we have never seen here in America. Agent Rogers will give you your assignments and an information packet with details about the various forms of cyanide. Stay sharp people!" Cho barked, worry etched into his face.

This was an entirely unfamiliar form of murder, one that Cho had never encountered in all his years at the CBI or the FBI. While death by cyanide poisoning was famous down through history, this was a first for the FBI. The killer could walk into this bullpen with a dose of cyanide and release it right now, today, and no one would make it out alive.

The sick bastard was just playing with the police.

As the groups of agents stood up and disbanded, Jane turned in his chair and grasped Lisbon's hands.

"I don't want you anywhere near this case Teresa. I can't lose you" he said, his glare piercing in its intensity.

Teresa was anticipating this. How often had Jane professed his fear of her being injured or killed on the job? Too many times over the years to count, but now, with their marriage and a small daughter to raise, his paranoia would ramp up into overdrive.

"Jane, stop. I need to work this case just as much as any of the other agents here today."

Jane opened his mouth to protest but Teresa cut him off.

"Just as much as any other agent - Jane. Don't forget, they have families too, not just us. How can we hold ourselves separate from the dangers of the job when everyone else is willing to do whatever is necessary to stop this lunatic?"

She returned Jane's glare and waited him out. Seeing that she had an unassailable point, he sighed and stood up. Walking back and forth with his hands on his hips, he exuded tension and worry, but he said nothing. Teresa knew she had won the argument, but he wasn't done yet, not by a long shot. Reaching out and putting her hand on his back, she slowed his pacing and forced him to look at her.

"Patrick, please. I don't want to die any more than you do. We have Kiki and our lives to keep safe. I won't do anything to jeopardize that. We can work this case and stay safe, both of us, but you have to let me do my job. Can you do that Patrick?"

Running a hand through his mop of curls, Jane bit his lower lip and silently nodded his head. Turning to face his wife, he wanted the last word.

"When we figure out who this bastard is….I want you nowhere near him! Understand? Not within a mile of this animal."

Teresa understood his fear and anxiety. She could work this case as hard as anyone, but if they got their solid lead and were about to make an arrest, she would hold back and let someone else gain all the glory and kudos for the arrest. She could do this for Patrick.

"Okay Patrick, I promise. Not within a mile."

The stress in Jane's shoulders instantly released and he grabbed Teresa by the waist and hugged her in front of everyone in the bullpen. He didn't give a shit what they saw or thought about him. Teresa and Anika were his only priorities.


	2. Chemistry Class

Thank you to all of the readers who welcomed me back. Your PM's are so appreciated. Reviews are also most welcome as your take on the story and its progress are enlightening and fun to read. It's amazing where your minds go!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 2

Chemistry Class

The bullpen became unusually hushed as agents sat and read through their information packets. The largest amount of information to digest was regarding the properties of cyanide. The material was dense and hard to process if you were not a chemistry wonk. If you hadn't studied chemistry in university, it was hard to understand. Most of the agents had not. Since the murder was only discovered that morning, forensics still had much to uncover, so that part of the file was sadly lacking in detail. As to how the killer placed the victim against the statue outside a government building without being seen, that had yet to be determined.

Patrick and Teresa sat quietly on 'their' sofa, the fingers on their free hands intertwined as they read their documents. Every so often Teresa clicked her tongue in disgust as she was repeatedly appalled by Man's ability to inflict pain and suffering on his fellow man through the use of chemical agents. Patrick had never been to high school or college, but had read many books on a huge variety of subjects to self-educate himself, to the point that he could uphold his end in many serious conversations on a myriad of topics. Chemical analysis and chemicals used in warfare had been on his reading list many years ago, so this information was a refresher of sorts, and a lot of it had to be considered updated data, certainly more in depth than he was used to. What he read frightened him too.

Teresa put down her paperwork and wondered aloud.

"So how does someone in Markdale get his or her hands on cyanide anyway? From what I can understand it is almost always purchased in bulk for industrial uses. Our killer is using minute amounts and in a way that is safe for him, deadly for his victims. What's the connection here Jane?"

Patrick lowered his sheets of paper and turned to face Teresa, the same thoughts rattling around in his head.

"I recall reading years ago that cyanide was also a by-product of jewellery making. People poaching fish illegally have used forms of cyanide to capture large amounts of fish, and of course, it is used medically" he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Medically? But our victims were all in fields related to medicine!' Teresa said, the idea seeming so obvious now. "The first victim, a man, was a pharmacist; the next two victims were women. One was a nurse from the Litchfield Psychiatric Home and the other was a medical student visiting her parents from Houston. She didn't even live in Markdale anymore. Our investigation shows that they were unknown to each other. Except for the fact they had medical backgrounds, there was nothing to link them at all."

Patrick ran his finger over his bottom lip in thought. "We know the sex of the victims is not important, nor is age as they were older and near retirement, or young, or in the middle of their careers. The only thing linking them is their somewhat shared interest in medicine or taking care of people. That's where we need to look."

"Cho has teams who will go out and interview the families of the victims. When they compare notes, something might point us in the right direction" Teresa said hopefully.

Patrick smiled at her and stood up quickly, offering her his hand. "Of course he will look into their backgrounds. It's a waste of time, but protocols must be followed. Shall we go?" he said, leading Lisbon away towards the elevators.

"Wait! What? A waste of time? How? Why is it a waste…" she sputtered as Jane handed Lisbon her purse as they passed her desk.

"It's the gumshoe ethic my dear...hard to avoid in this profession, but we…." Jane hit the "Down" button on the elevator, "don't have to go along with such tedious activities. We're going to school instead!"

"School?" Lisbon burbled in confusion as the elevator doors slide silently open.

"Is there an echo in here Lisbon? Yes, school, University to be exact" Jane explained, pushing the button for the lobby.

"Jane! This better not be an excuse to take me out of the investigation before it even begins!" Lisbon began to protest as the doors slid shut.

Pressing her up against the stainless steel wall, Jane leaned against her body and pressed a kiss on her forehead, smiling enigmatically.

"Nothing would please me more than to drive to the coast today and sit in the sand, contemplating lunch rather than cyanide poison and a lunatic on the loose...but we actually are working the case my dear. Just a bit of education from an expert first and then we will be on our way again. I promise" he breathed into her ear, ruffling her hair with his breath.

Against her will Lisbon broke out in a smile, her blood running a little warmer than it had been just minutes before in the bullpen. Damn that man could make her aroused in the blink of an eye!

The bell signalled their arrival at the Lobby level and Jane backed up, smoothing down his suit jacket with a sly smile. If he couldn't keep his wife away from the case, he would stick as close to her as possible. And if that meant getting a little physical along the way, so much the better.

"I'm driving!" Lisbon informed Jane in a tone that would brook no denial.

"Yes Ma'am" he answered, knowing full well she would almost never let him drive the FBI SUV. What he did in his own car was his business, but the government issued vehicle was her responsibility.

"Where to?"

"The University of Texas at Austin" Jane instructed, putting the address into the GPS. "I have a friend there who teaches pharmacology. He's a wonderful scientist and a good friend from a long way back, to my carny days" he said in explanation, leaving Teresa with even more questions left unanswered.

After all these years, Teresa was still amazed at the people Jane knew from all walks of life. How he had made the acquaintance of this man would be an interesting story, no doubt. The pull of traffic soon had the Black SUV nearing the University campus. Jane directed Lisbon to a parking spot and soon they were immersed in the crowd of students rushing between classes and on their way to find coffee and conversation. Jane found the atmosphere invigorating but Lisbon just felt old surrounded by young 20-somethings. She had gone to University before entering the police academy, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Not having ever gone to school, Jane liked the energy of this place but not the politics and petty bureaucracy such large institutions lived and died by. As they walked, Jane pulled out his cell phone and sent a text.

"Does your friend know we're coming Jane?" Lisbon asked. It seemed highly unlikely the man would be free just when Jane waltzed in, but knowing Jane, it would all work out.

"He's free after his first lecture of the day. His policy is to have an open office so students and faculty can drop by and meet with him. With a bit of luck, he will be available for a few minutes to answer some questions for us before the next lecture begins. I let him know we were on our way."

A text alert rang on his phone and Jane smiled. "He's waiting for us, third floor, Bio/Science building, right over...there!" Jane said, pointing ahead to an impressive grey stone building dominating the street.

Five minutes later Lisbon and Jane were shaking hands with Dr. Mike Staples.

"Patrick! My God, you're a sight for sore eyes! So good to see you after...how long has it been?" the man enthused.

"Since forever"Jane grinned, not wanting to remember that the last time he and Mike had spent time together was before Angela died. "I seem to remember that you left the States and spent some time in Africa travelling around and doing some teaching at schools there. How long did that last?"

"Five years. Five wonderful years. Opened my eyes to a lot of stuff I had been blind to. When I'm done teaching here, I'll go back to teaching overseas again before age and decrepitude slow me down" Mike smiled. Turning to face Teresa, Mike extended his hand.

"HI, I'm Mike Staples, chemistry wizard and poop shoveller!" he said to a confused Teresa.

"Mike, this is FBI Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane. My wife" Patrick said with obvious pride and affection.

Mike turned his surprised face to Teresa and eschewing a handshake, embraced her in a bear hug instead.

"So great to meet you Mrs. Jane - Agent!" he laughed. "So Patrick finally settled down? Hard to believe!"

"I'm doing my best to tame him" smiled Teresa, taking a step closer to Jane, liking his friend instantly. "How did you and Patrick meet, Mike?"

Mike motioned for them to sit down and closed his door to have a bit of privacy with his old friend.

"I was a stupid teenager who thought my life was shit, so I ran away from home. The circus came to town and I imagined travelling with the circus would be a great adventure."

"And was it?" asked Teresa, guessing at his answer.

"If you like shovelling elephant shit, yes, very adventurous. Patrick and I became friends while the show travelled around. Eventually I could see that what I had run away from was far better than the life Patrick was stuck with. I stayed with the show until my parents could pick me up in the next big city. Even though I went back home, Patrick and I have stayed in contact over the years."

Jane seemed embarrassed by this story but let Mike tell it anyway without interruption. It was the truth, his life was far worse than Mike's had been as a child and teenager, but now, it was all water under the bridge.

"He got his life together, got his Ph.D. and voila! Dr. Michael Staples!" Jane smiled, proud of his friend. He decided to get the conversation on track before Mike had to turn his attention back to his students.

"So, Mike. Much as I'd love to reminisce, we're here on police business. I'm hoping you can do better than this when it comes to explaining to us poor laymen how cyanide works" Jane said, waving his sheaf of folded papers which the FBI had assembled at short notice.

"We have a victim who died from cyanide poisoning. This is a very long and boring batch of information all about the chemical makeup of cyanide, but I expect you can explain it better in real English in half the time. How does it work, where do you get it, etc. etc." Jane smiled and then settled back, waiting for his friend to lay it all out.

"May I?" Mike asked, reaching for the papers Jane held out to him.

Mike took a few minutes to scan the documents and shook his head.

"This is unnecessarily detailed and would confuse most chemistry students. Look, all you need to know is that there are various forms of cyanide out there. Most is used for industrial purposes, but even jewellers use it. The cyanide that killed your victim was most likely potassium cyanide, I can almost guarantee it without looking at the lab report."

"So, how easy is it to get your hands on potassium cyanide? How wide is our circle going to be when it comes to finding our killer?" Teresa asked, concerned that there were going to be too many avenues for tracking their perp. "Why choose cyanide in the first place?" she asked, her questions coming fast and furious.

Mike smiled and leaned back, steepling his fingers in thought.

"All good questions. Why choose cyanide to kill? It's incredibly fast acting, always lethal if you get the dosage correct, and it leaves no fingerprints. The victim doesn't even have time to call out for help. He or she is dead in seconds. Cyanide is so fast because it causes extreme chemical interruption or, better word, suffocation, of cells. The bloodstream is chock full of oxygen with each inhalation. Now imagine that the oxygen has nowhere to go. It is stuck in the blood and can't be absorbed. Considering that oxygen in equals carbon dioxide out in the matter of a breath, a heartbeat, you can understand that the inability to take that oxygen out of the bloodstream would mean instant cellular death. First the brain dies, and moments later the heart stops beating. A victim would have bright red skin, due to the hyper-oxygenation of the blood."

"The Nazis used hydrogen cyanide in the Zyklon gas in their gas chambers. Always 100% effective" Jane added.

"Mmmm…" Mike nodded, imagining that terrible scenario.

"What about suicide pills?" Lisbon asked.

"The so-called suicide pills used by government agents in case of capture by the enemy is not just a fantasy concocted by Hollywood. Those glass pills or beads, were filled with potassium cyanide and would allow the agent to die in seconds, before he could divulge any information to the bad guys" Mike added.

"Glass pills? Why glass?" Lisbon asked, fascinated by this chilling history.

"Easy. The glass breaks when you bite down on the capsule, tiny cuts are made in the gums and mouth. The cyanide now has a perfect way to enter the bloodstream...and, you die."

Lisbon looked away and realized how horrible that decision would be to make if she was captured and about to be tortured for information. Mike saw her reaction and decided to bring her back to the present.

"Now, to answer your other questions. How to get your hands on any kind of cyanide nowadays. It has always been around us in one form or another. In nature, it's in the foods we eat on a daily basis, albeit in tiny amounts that cannot harm us. For example, cyanides are produced by certain bacteria, fungi, and algae and are found in a number of plants. Cyanides are found in substantial amounts in certain seeds and fruit stones, like, those of bitter almonds, apricots, apples, and peaches. But again, you would have to eat more than is possible to poison yourself on seeds and pits. The burning of certain plastics releases cyanide into the atmosphere, which is why firefighters have such a dangerous job. I could go on, but needless to say, this poison is all around us in the most mundane materials."

"Yes, but how did our killer get pure enough cyanide to make capsules, if we do find evidence of glass shards in the mouth of our victim?" Teresa pressed Mike, not needing a science lesson at the moment.

"Ok, sorry. Bottom line? You can order it online. In capsule form, to kill yourself if that is your desire" Mike said succinctly.

Lisbon turned to Jane in disbelief. "You can order this crap online like ordering sushi or a paint by numbers kit? How is that even legal?"

"Welcome to America my dear. You want it badly enough, someone will ship it to you free in two business days" he smirked, finding the idea unsettling too.

"So short of demanding to know the name of every person who placed an order online for this stuff, as if we would get that info out of the million or two sources out there, we are at a dead end with getting to a supplier" Lisbon said in exasperation.

"I'm afraid so" Mike answered. "I think your way to this guy or woman, is to figure out a motive and work from there."

"Well then, that makes it so much easier" Jane sniffed, seeing that Mike's knowledge would not actually help them out today.

"Sorry Patrick. I wish I could give you a more definitive answer as to who would be able to get his hands on this stuff, but the field is just to broad. But at least it brought you to my door today, so I would count that as a win for me" he smiled, shaking Jane's hand.

"A win for me too. When this case is closed, please be my guest at our home. Teresa and I would love to have you over for dinner. We can catch up with all the latest and you can meet our daughter Anika" Jane grinned.

"Anika? A little girl? Patrick, that's wonderful news! Absolutely I will come. Here's my card with a couple of numbers you can use to reach me outside of the University."

Turning to Teresa, Mike shook her hand effusively and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"So happy to have met you Teresa. I look forward to paying a visit to your home. Anytime, just call."

"We'll do that. Thank you Mike" she laughed.

A student knocked on the doorframe and Mike knew his time with his friends had come to an end.

"See you soon Mike" Patrick called over his shoulder as he guided Teresa out into the student clogged hallway.

"Bye Patrick, Teresa!" came the reply before Mike's office door shut again.

As they walked to their SUV Jane and Lisbon mulled over the information Mike had given them. It didn't lend anything new to the investigation other than it would be almost impossible to track their perp through the cyanide pill. They would have to go by old fashioned sleuthing to make any progress.

"I like your friend Mike" Teresa smiled as she slid behind the steering wheel. "As soon as we close this case we'll have him over for a barbeque."

"Be prepared for a very interesting night then" grinned Patrick, looking forward to it as well. "Mike is a world class storyteller and with his travels, the night will be one to remember."

The SUV eased out into traffic and soon was engulfed in the noon hour rush. Now the hard work would have to begin.


	3. Cho - Shaken and Stirred

Thanks for the reviews, they make my day. So glad some of you are already hooked on this story!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 3

Cho - Shaken and Stirred

Jane and Lisbon returned to the bullpen a little more informed in the ways of poison spy pills but a lot more shaken by the cruelty of this murderer. Were these crimes of opportunity or carefully thought out killings against a predetermined list of victims? And why would this particular group of people be singled out? They were not related by blood, occupation or affiliation to any organization as far as the limited research had uncovered. At this point, the case was a dead end.

Jane made a beeline for Cho when he entered the FBI office. Cho rounded on him, a severe expression darkening his face.

"Where've you been?" Cho challenged him, before Jane could speak. "I need to know where my team members are at all times with this case." He seemed angry. Jane tried to placate him, palms up in supplication.

"Doing research Cho...like usual...since I leave the slogging to the academy graduates" Jane smiled, trying to undo any aggravation he had caused his friend and now, boss. Cho was having none of Jane's nonsense.

"This is a dangerous situation Jane. We're dealing with a psychopath who has access to chemical weapons. When you disappear without a word, it worries me and causes unnecessary stress to the team."

"What's this all about Cho? Why so angry?"

"You turned off your phone. Lisbon didn't answer hers. Not cool Jane. You could be taken by this guy and we'd be none the wiser" Cho vented. He sounded scared.

Seeing how his old friend Cho only meant well, but had to come across as tough and in control, Jane held back his planned sarcasm and allowed himself to be contrite. He owed Cho that respect after all these years. And yes, if he got snatched by the killer, Cho and his team wouldn't know until it was too late judging by this madman's methods. Ignoring their phones so he could enjoy his visit with Mike Staples had been a selfish decision, one Jane regretted now. Lisbon would be pissed off too for going along with his demand to just ignore any calls until they were back in the car. She knew better.

Jane dropped his hands and slid them into his jacket pockets. Rocking gently on his heels, he raised his chin and gazed directly into Cho's eyes.

"You're right. I wasn't thinking. I had an idea and I just ran with it. I brought Lisbon along to meet an old friend who's a chemistry professor to get some clarity on cyanide, since our information packet was too convoluted to wade through. We should have kept in contact. But I'll tell you where I'm going the next time I feel the urge to take off on a whim, I promise Kimball."

Jane's expression assured Cho he was serious and not just playing him. But Cho wasn't finished yet.

"That's just it Jane. I don't want you taking off on a whim. Play according to the rules so that I don't have to worry that you're in over your head. Got it?"

Jane bit his lip and felt foolish. He had let one of his most respected friends down. Cho had to maintain order and Jane was as good as a poke in the eye for all of Cho's efforts. He wouldn't do that again.

"Got it. Sorry. Just enthusiastic. No taking off."

Cho relaxed his stance and crossed his arms over his heavily muscled chest.

"Was the trip worth it?" he asked, his tone more friendly now that he had established his professional dominance.

"Yes, on a couple of fronts. The cyanide is too easily available online to any nut job out there with a computer and a credit card. It will be futile to try to figure out who ordered it without going through a mountain of names. There has to be a more mundane link between our perp and the victims. And we should expect to find glass shards in the gums and soft tissue of the mouths of the two women. If we want a consultant on the case regarding cyanide or chemical weapons, Dr. Mike Staples is our man."

Cho sighed heavily. "Good to know. I may give him a call. We're doing background checks into each of the murder victims to see if there is any way they somehow knew each other. So far, nothing is turning up. This last victim, the nurse from the Litchfield Psychiatric Home, is confirmation that he has a grudge against the medical profession."

Jane reached into his vest pocket and gave Cho Mike's business card. "Here, in case you need to reach him. I'm going to head out to the City Hall in Markdale, see why our man was able to leave the nurse there on display without being seen."

"Forensics should be done by now. Take Wylie with you. I need Lisbon here for a while" Cho suggested, glad to have moved past this now with Jane.

Jane smiled and turned towards the bored, blonde young man sitting behind his computer doing research, as usual.

"Jason! Grab your jacket! We're on our way to Markdale!" Jane announced, patting Wylie on the back.

Wylie broke out into a wide grin and stood up, almost spilling his coffee in his excited haste. Jane almost never took him out into the field, preferring to keep Agent Lisbon Jane at his side.

"Jane? What's up?" Teresa asked as Jane waited for Wylie to shut down his files.

"Heading out to Markdale to take a peek at the crime scene. Cho says he needs you here. See you soon" he said, coming over to give her a quick peck on the forehead.

"Ok...stay safe" she mumbled before turning towards Cho's office. Wylie was already at the elevator, looking like a kid who was gifted with a day off school. As the elevator door slid open Jane lifted his head and gave Teresa a beaming smile, then he was gone.

Once outside, Wylie slid behind the wheel of a company SUV while Jane arranged himself comfortably in the passenger seat.

"Thanks for taking me with you Jane. It gets boring being in the office day in and day out" Jason said, smiling over at his companion for the afternoon.

"Cho's idea, but a good one. Glad to have you along Wylie" Jane grinned graciously. He really like young Jason Wylie and hoped these outings would boost the man's confidence to get out into the field more often. Jane punched in the address for the City Hall in Markdale and let the GPS direct Wylie while he snuggled down for a quick nap. There would be time enough for chit chat on the way back to Austin.

The time between Austin and Markdale flew by as Jane dozed and mulled the investigation over in his mind. Did the killer know in advance where he wanted to display his latest victim, or did he react to an opportunity that opened up to him at the last minute? Did that last minute opportunity then cause him to commit the murder? Which came first, the plan to kill or the opportunity to kill? Perhaps the answer lay in a leafy city square.

Wylie maneuvered the SUV into a parking spot not far from the city centre.

"Jane! We're here!" he said, leaning over to shake his passenger's shoulder.

"Yup! I'm ready to go!" Jane mumbled, getting the fog out of his brain. Stepping out of the SUV, he looked across the lawn and saw the bright yellow crime scene tape fluttering in the cool autumn breeze. It was wrapped around the entire front lawn area, encompassing the statue, light posts and benches. No one was allowed to enter and disturb the crime scene. No one except he and Wylie, he assumed.

Taking a slow walk towards the area, he sent Wylie around the corner to see if anything seemed out of place, but really, he just wanted to putter without being distracted by his young sidekick.

It all looked so ordinary. Beautifully manicured lawn, bright fall flowers, immaculately maintained building, nothing amiss. He stood and cast a long look all around the square, at the shops around the corner and the dull grey municipal building across the road. It couldn't have been more ordinary and neat if it came out of a movie set. Pursing his lips in concentration, Jane stepped over the crime scene tape and sauntered across the lawn towards the statue where the body had been found.

"Hey you! Get outta here! Can't you see this here is a crime scene? What'sa matter with ya?" a heavy set man in a grey uniform yelled at Jane as he hurried towards the statue with a ladder and tool belt rattling as he walked.

Jane turned and smiled at the man, obviously a maintenance worker for the local government building.

"Hello!" Jane smiled, slowly reaching into his pocket to pull out his laminated FBI badge.

"Can't you understand English buddy? Scram!" shouted the man in grey.

"FBI. This is my crime scene" Jane said, lazily waving his index finger around to indicate the property in question as he waved his badge under the other man's nose. The maintenance man stopped and flushed in embarrassment. The Feds scared the hell out of him and the place had been crawling with them since the body was found.

"Sorry...sorry Agent" he mumbled, fumbling with his ladder, looking for a way to exit without a confrontation.

"No problem. The name's Patrick Jane. Actually, you are just the person I was looking for" Jane smiled, waving the flustered man over to where he stood. "And your name?"

"Oh, ahh...Ralph Petrelli. You wanted me?"

"Nice to meet you Ralph! I suspect you're someone who knows what's really going on around here. The other agents talked to the guys in suits - right?" Jane suggested, to the other man's surprise, getting a nod in reply.

"But you're the man who should be consulted. You know everything" Jane said persuasively, drawing the man over with praise instead of insults.

"I do?" the man answered, flattered but on his guard. Who was this nut in the dark blue suit?

"I'm sure you do. For example, you maintain this building don't you?"

"Well, yeah, me and a couple other guys…" he answered cautiously, not wanting to get into trouble.

"Yes, and you would know if something was out of place, odd or unusual, correct?"

"Well, ahhh...yeah, I would" he agreed.

"So tell me...how often do you change the light bulbs in those antique light standards surrounding the City Hall building?" Jane asked, turning around to point to one close by the front sidewalk.

The maintenance man snorted in derision and gazed up at the light fixture. There was a hole in the antique glass shade on the side facing away from the City Hall. The hole would be missed if you stood looking at the light from the base of the statue.

"Damned kids! Those light shades are almost impossible to replace and every year some smart ass kid throws a rock at the light just to piss me off. Takes me forever to climb up there and take the shade down and order a replacement. A few months later, the little prick does it again!"

Both men walked over to the light post and looked up, quietly contemplating the hole and the prick who put it there. Whatever glass had fallen was nowhere in sight now, but the inside of the shade was littered with glass from the shattered light bulb within.

"So this gets broken every so many months, correct? But randomly?"

"Yessir. I guess whenever the little shits get tired of whatever else they're doin' to piss off folks, they come back here and smash my light fixture again. If I get my hands on those shitheads I'll knock them from here to Kingdom Come!" he said with venom.

Jane shook his head in commiseration and turned to walk back towards the statue.

"So, if that light goes out, what happens here, around the statue? Is there enough light from the other light posts to keep this area illuminated, or does it fall into darkness?"

The man in grey smiled and understood what Jane was getting at. No one else had bothered to ask the maintenance guys what happened if the lights went out.

"The way the posts are laid out around the square, they don't exactly overlap with their light coverage. Too far apart. They were put up so long ago, it wasn't done for safely. It was just for looks. Nowadays, cities make sure the walkways are flooded with light so you don't walk into dark spots where someone can knock you out and rob you blind" the man said, gesticulating wildly, acting out the crime of theft.

"I see...so really, all it would take is for one light...that one" Jane pointed to the the light post in question, "to cast this entire part of the lawn into darkness. Someone could take advantage of that and drag a body up here without being seen."

The man in grey looked at the base of the statue and nodded mutely. Geez...that's what must have happened last night.

While both men stood staring at the statue, Wylie came around the corner across the lawn to meet up with Jane. The maintenance man sprang into action. A bull terrier in a cotton uniform.

"Can't you read kid? Stay the hell off this property! It's a crime scene!" he yelled at the surprised FBI Agent.

"Ahh...he's with me" Jane said quietly, tapping the angry man on the shoulder.

Wylie held out his laminated FBI badge and smiled lamely at the overwrought man.

"Agent Wylie, Austin FBI."

"See? With me" said Jane, turning to speak to Jason. The maintenance man shut up.

"Find anything amiss?"

Wylie shook his head, no. "No one saw anything. No one knows anything. The guy is a ghost."

Jane turned and showed the damaged light shade to Wylie and let him figure it out for himself.

"That would do it" Jason agreed.

Jane turned to Ralph and shook his hand.

"You've been a big help" Jane said to the maintenance man. "Keep up the good work!"

Ralph was beside himself with pride. The Feds needed him!

"Yessir! Will do!" Ralph beamed, amazed to have been of help to the FBI. Then he picked up his ladder and continued on his way. Jane and Wylie stepped over the yellow crime scene tape and started to walk towards the car.

Once they were back in the SUV, Jane sat thinking through what he had just learned. The events of the previous night were beginning to make more sense now.

"We've been wondering if this was a crime of opportunity or if it was planned far in advance" Jane said out loud, getting his thoughts in order.

"Yes…?" answered Wylie, knowing Jane was on to something.

"There is no way the killer could have known that light would be out last night, unless he threw a rock and took the light out himself. But…"

"But that would be stupid. He would draw too much attention to himself if someone was passing by" Wylie finished the thought. Jane continued.

"Especially if he already had a victim tied up in his car…" Jane mused. "Or planned to kill soon.

No, he needed to get in fast and get out fast." Turning to Wylie, he offered a new idea for the scenario.

"What if this was a crime of opportunity? He saw the light was out, knew it wouldn't be repaired that night or in the days to come. Gives him time to take his victim back to the square where he knows the statue is in darkness. He can kill his victim when it suits him, then just walk away in the darkness, unseen. Next morning, the body is revealed in the daylight."

"Makes sense" Jason agreed.

"Hmmm..makes sense" Jane repeated. "But only to a madman…"


	4. Just A Feeling

It's been raining non-stop for days, and I managed to use the time to write several chapters ahead. I could wait, but why not put up another chapter now that the sun is shining again? Read on dear readers...

Dead Ringer

Chapter 4

Just A Feeling

Jane let his mind wander over the information discovered at the latest crime scene. A nurse had been killed. Why? Who would want her dead? What did she know that was so dangerous to someone that she had to be silenced? Or was it a crime of passion committed by a jilted lover? Was it a sexual assault gone horribly wrong? The autopsy would reveal answers to that question. What was the lifestyle of the nurse? A rush of new questions flooded Jane's mind.

"Wylie, what do we know about the nurse so far? We're missing something here."

"Sure...ahh...Susannah Moore. She was employed full time at the Litchfield Psychiatric Home. Worked there for six months…"

"Only six months and she's dead?"

"Well, yes. She was single, never married, devoted to helping people apparently. Had a clean employment record. Professional, organized. Came home from working in a Houston hospital to take care of her elderly mother, Beth Moore. Took a job at Litchfield. "

"How old was she?"

"Fifty-seven. Why Jane?"

Jane looked out of his window at the countryside rolling by. This nurse should have been the last person to be someone's enemy. And at her age, not the first choice for a young lothario with an ego bigger than his brain. Not a sexual issue then…

"At fifty-seven, her career is set. She has generated a good reputation and is at the top of her game professionally. Unless she was remarkably beautiful and rich, especially rich, she wouldn't be a target for a gigolo. I don't think she was killed because of an angry ex-boyfriend. She must have known something that was dangerous to someone else's sense of security."

"Agreed. What about the others?" Wylie asked, always keen to see how Jane's mental process worked.

"The pharmacist, Bill Palley, male, 62 years old. The first one killed and displayed at a baseball diamond, on home plate. Head bashed in with a bat. The killer left him so that he would be discovered when the local team showed up to play a game."

Jane grimaced at the mental picture of the poor man draped across home plate like a bloody trophy.

"I hope kids didn't find him" Wylie said, imagining their shock and horror at the grisly sight.

"Nope, the groundskeeper found him at 6:30 am, long before the kids turned up" Jane assured Wylie.

"Both women died from cyanide poisoning but the pharmacist died from a blow to the head. So why is he lumped in with the women? How do we know he was killed by the same perp?" Wylie asked sensibly. "Two women wouldn't be considered the work of a serial killer."

"No idea why the killer changed his methods. Since Palley died from a crushed skull, he wasn't immediately linked to the other murders. When the other two women showed up displayed in public places, his murder fit that profile. The killer can't help himself. He needs to show off."

"D'ya think he'll kill again using a third method? Maybe the cyanide was just a something to try out and he'll move on to another method, given time and opportunity" Wylie thought out loud. "Who knows how many people are helping this guy."

"Mmmm...maybe..good question Jason. But this is the work of one person. I'm sure of it. When we find out how all three deaths are linked, we'll have our killer" Jane said with assurance.

"What about the student nurse Jane? She was home to visit her parents. Who could have known she was coming? Did someone take her just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or did someone have a vendetta against her too?"

Jane shook his head, no answer to give to his young companion. If no one knew Carrie Klein was in town, how could he have planned to kill her?

"By now some of the family and friends of the victims have been re-interviewed since this is the case of a serial killer on the loose. We need to see those interviews. The key is in there somewhere" Jane proposed, feeling certain he was right. A clue was there, it just had to see the light of day.

As if in response to Jane's comment, Wylie unconsciously hit the gas pedal, the urge to return to the office and dig deeper into this mystery his first priority.

When Jane and Wylie stepped into the bullpen, it was a hive of activity. Several new agents had transferred in from other departments and were checking the large overhead screens that displayed details of the murders and photos of the deceased. It reminded Jane of the procedure boards back in the days of the CBI. While digital files were fast, staring into the faces of their victims did something on a more visceral level to motivate the team. As he stood reading the newest information that had been uploaded, Lisbon found Jane and tapped his arm.

"Hi" he smiled, running his hand across her back in greeting. "Anything new?"

"Not too much. Cho decided to put up this digital display to see if anything new shakes out. The widow of Palley, the pharmacist, was re-interviewed in light of the newest murder, but she's not very much help. She's in the early stages of Alzheimer's disease - early onset - so her facts are a bit scrambled. His kids don't live in Markdale anymore so they don't know anything. Unless Mrs. Palley can focus more clearly on the recent past, she can't be of much use to us."

"Huh...I can speak to her if that would help" Jane offered. Perhaps a bit of surreptitious hypnotism could bring back some of her memories. "What about the student nurse's family? Has anyone spoken to them today?"

"Cho just asked me to go out with someone. Want to come with me?" Lisbon suggested, knowing full well Jane would say yes.

"Let me grab a cup of tea and then we can go" Jane agreed. Lisbon followed him to the kitchen and poured herself a coffee in a travel mug while Jane brewed himself a tea to go. While never as tasty as a cup of tea in his favourite blue cup, it was better than the swill he was forced to drink out of a foam cup from a gas station on the road. Lisbon watched his tea making ritual, knowing it calmed Patrick and let him think about his upcoming task in a more focussed manner. When he threw away the tea bag and screwed on the lid of his travel mug, he turned to her with a smile and guided her towards the elevator with his hand in the small of her back. Such small gestures meant the world to Lisbon. It kept both of them grounded and unified on a day like this.

"Let's grab some lunch to go from the deli down the street" Lisbon suggested, seeing how the morning had flown by without much thought for lunch.

"Deal" smiled Jane, his stomach rumbling already.

On the way downstairs, Lisbon filled Jane in on the little information Mrs. Palley could remember from the last year. Her husband had been the first to die, and she had not recovered from the shock of his death. She fervently believed he had no enemies and that his death was an accident. He had been planning to meet someone to discuss medications the day he disappeared. That's all she could remember from that horrible day. He had worked in his pharmacy for the last 35 years and knew everyone in town. According to her, everyone was his friend and if you had a beef with him, it was very soon rectified.

"Mrs. Palley said her husband had no real problems with any particular patients. He also dealt with the local small hospital and Litchfield Psychiatric Hospital, the only private mental health facility in the region. He supplied their pharmaceuticals and had a great relationship with Dr. David Litchfield, the administrator and chief psychiatrist."

"So he was beloved by all" Jane said with a touch of sarcasm. "Isn't that what people always say of the dead? Everybody loved him?"

"Well, maybe it's true sometimes Jane! Don't be such a cynic!" Teresa teased him.

"Sorry, can't help it in this business. The idol usually turns out to have feet of clay."

"Let's hope not" Lisbon added as she stepped into the elevator.

As they walked to the parking lot, Jane wanted to know if the autopsy report had come in yet.

"Too soon, it's only been a few hours since Susannah Moore was found in Markdale."

"When that report comes in, I want to read it, and the autopsy findings for Palley and Carrie Klein. There has to be something there that links all three victims" Jane said with conviction.

"We can read the first two when we get back to the office. By the time we wade through all that, perhaps the autopsy will be completed on Miss Moore" Lisbon suggested.

Once in the SUV, Jane regaled Teresa with the details of his trip to Markdale with Wylie. While not a lot was revealed, he felt it had not been a wasted trip. Perhaps the parents of young Carrie Klein could shed some light on her last days alive in Markdale. Many of the answers the FBI needed were in that sleepy small city.

An hour later Jane and Lisbon stood on the front porch of a well maintained Victorian house in a leafy suburb of Markdale. After ringing the doorbell a few times, they stepped off the porch and walked around to the back of the house. There they found Mr. and Mrs. Klein, tending to a small garden. It looked relatively new, and featured a petite statue of an angel in the middle of a profusion of bright flowers. A memorial to the daughter lost to them forever.

"Mr. and Mrs. Klein?" Lisbon said softly so as not to startle them.

"Yes? Can we help you?" Mr. Klein asked.

"Hello. I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane of the Austin FBI, and this is our Consultant, Patrick Jane. I wonder if you would let us ask you a few questions about your daughter Carrie?"

Mrs. Klein twisted a tissue in her fingers and seemed instantly distraught. "We already spoke to so many police officers, and nothing ever happened. They didn't catch that devil who took away my baby girl!" she said in grief.

"Now now sweetie, please, don't get worked up" her husband consoled her, putting his arm protectively around her shoulders.

Turning to Jane and Lisbon, Mr. Klein offered them chairs by a small table on the patio.

"You must understand, we've been through a terrible tragedy, and we just need to put it behind us. Unless you came to give us the good news that someone has been arrested for killing our daughter, I don't see what we have to talk about" he explained kindly.

"Unless you've suffered the loss of a child, you can't possibly know how we feel" said Mrs. Klein bitterly, her eyes searching Jane's and Lisbon's. "All your talk about finding this evil person is just talk. It's different when it's your child You'd try harder to find him!" she sobbed, breaking down in frustration.

Jane dropped his head and took a deep breath, not daring to speak for a moment. Teresa saw the distress on Patrick's face. It would always be this way, no matter how many years passed since Charlotte died and Red John had moldered to dust in the ground. Then Jane spoke up and surprised her.

"Mrs. Klein, I do know how you feel" he began before she cut him off.

"You can't possibly know how we feel so don't tell me any lies Agent Jane!"

Jane squared his shoulders and took Mrs. Klein's hand in his, caressing it soothingly.

"I lost my daughter Charlotte to a madman when she was just a little girl. She and her mother both died that day. I do know how you feel, and we will do everything we can to bring your daughter's killer to justice" he added, now wanting to move on.

Mrs. Klein stopped her sobbing and felt like a fool and a cruel one at that. Of course she wasn't the only one to ever lose a loved one. She felt ashamed of having put this nice man in such a difficult position.

"Forgive me...I'm sorry…" she said softly while her husband put his arm around her shoulder again.

Lisbon broke the tension and carried on.

"We're sorry to have to bring this up again, but there's been another murder and we feel that perhaps you could know something that would help to catch this killer. We believe the latest murder was committed by the same person who killed Carrie" Lisbon informed them.

"We told the detectives everything we know" Mr. Klein reiterated. "What more could we tell you?"

Jane spoke softly to Mrs. Klein. He had to get control of his emotions.

"Tell us about Carrie" Jane said, still stroking Mrs. Klein's hand. "Tell me what she was like, who she was friends with. She decided to become a nurse. Why did she choose that profession when there are so many new and unusual jobs out there now" he said soothingly.

Mrs. Klein smiled bleakley and put her other free hand over Jane's. This is what she needed. She needed to tell someone about her beautiful daughter, to have someone who was interested and wouldn't try to console her for once. Just to listen without interruption.

"Oh Carrie was...she was such a sweet girl. An old soul we always said" she said softly, turning to smile at her husband.

"Carrie would always be bringing little animals home. A bird with a damaged wing, a frog who was in the middle of the lawn and she thought had lost his way home. Once she brought home a kitten with its tail all mangled. She cried and cried over the cruelty someone had inflicted on that poor creature. We ended up keeping that cat until it died of old age. Taking care of people and animals was just in her nature. She had a lot of friends, good kids, never a bit of trouble from any of them. Carrie volunteered at a nursing home as soon as she was old enough and got her community service hours for high school that way, but she would have done it anyway. She also worked during the summer at the local hospital as a nurse's aide, helping with the old folks and babies. The kids in the pediatric department just loved her too. I think that's when she decided to go into nursing after she graduated from high school. She also spent a couple of weeks every summer helping out at the Litchfield Psychiatric Home and really liked Dr. Litchfield. Said he was doing really good work there."

"It seems like she would have been a wonderful nurse" said Lisbon. "My mother was a nurse. They're special people."

"Yes they are" said Mr. Klein in support.

"When your daughter came home to visit this time, did she tell anyone in advance she was coming home?" asked Jane.

Both of her parents stared at each other in consternation.

"I don't think so, no" said Carrie's mother. "She just called us that morning and said she felt homesick and could she come over from Dallas where she was in training."

"Of course we said yes" added her father. "It was a last minute decision and she left for home as soon as school was done for the day. I really don't think she told anyone else but us."

Jane nodded thoughtfully. "And once she got here? Did she hook up with an old boyfriend? Did she go out with school friends or stay close to home?"

"Oh all of her friends are away at school out of state" explained Mrs. Klein. "And Carrie never had a steady boyfriend in high school. She was just too busy to date much, but not for lack of boys asking her out. She spent the first night home around the house, and the next day laying in the sun, raiding the fridge" she said with a sad smile. "The next day, Sunday, she said she wanted to drop in at the nursing home to see if any of the old folks would remember her. They meant that much to Carrie."

"Did she go there?" asked Lisbon.

"Oh yes, she did. After the funeral, the nursing home staff told us they were so happy to see her again. But, she died that Sunday night. Whatever she did after she left the nursing home, we don't know, even to this day. It's still a mystery to us" her Dad said in anguish.

"How did she get to the nursing home?"

"I drove her. Then she said she would take the bus and go downtown and shop a bit at some local stores before coming home for supper" Mr. Klein explained.

"I made all her favourites...and a cake! A double chocolate devil's food cake" said Mrs. Klein with a faint smile, seeing the food sitting on the table, growing cold when Carrie never returned that night.

"And then? Did Carrie call you while she was out?" Lisbon prodded gently.

"No. She must have been busy shopping...or something..we didn't hear from her again" said Mr. Klein while his wife wiped her eyes silently. "Her cell phone was never recovered."

"Is there a possibility she went to visit some other old friends, co-workers from the past, after she left the nursing home?" Jane asked, hoping for a breakthrough.

"Well of course she could have. She could have gone to see Dr. Litchfield I guess, but he says she didn't. So, maybe she looked up some kids from high school...I don't know anymore" her father said with frustration.

"Ok, just asking" Lisbon said soothingly. Mr. Klein was now the one getting upset as old memories came rushing back.

"What I don't understand is why her killer did what he did to her. He didn't just kill Carrie. He left her on the front steps of her old high school, leaning against the front doors. Who does something that sick?"

"That's what we're going to find out. That's what unites all three victims. Whoever did this to them wanted to make trophies of them, to personalize their deaths. In some twisted way, he was showcasing them" Jane explained.

Mr. Klein shook his head in disgust. Such people didn't deserve to be called human.

"You've both been so helpful, thank you for talking to us" Jane said, standing up and reaching for Lisbon's hand. She was surprised he ended the conversation so abruptly, but, it was Jane and he had his methods.

"Yes, thank you. We won't take up any more of your time" smiled Teresa.

"You'll tell us if you find out something, anything?" begged Mrs. Klein, reaching for Jane's hand.

"I hope the next time we speak, we'll have the news that you've been waiting for. We'll stay in touch" Jane promised, meaning it.

"Oh...okay...thank you" mumbled Mrs. Klein, not sure that they had really been of any help, but these people seemed to care about Carrie. Maybe they would finally find their daughter's murderer.

Jane and Lisbon made their way back to the SUV and sat for a few moments before Lisbon turned the key to pull away from the curb. She looked at Jane a few times, waiting for him to speak. Something had happened. He had discovered something, sensed something.

Frustrated that he hadn't spoken after 5 long silent minutes, Teresa finally had to ask.

"Well? What did you figure out back there?"

"Nothing. At least maybe nothing...not sure yet" Jane mumbled, his finger busily tapping his lower lip. Such an obvious tell to Lisbon, she knew that he wasn't exactly telling the truth.

"Jane...what's going on? Play nice and share with the class!" she cajoled him.

Jane turned his gaze to his lovely wife and smiled at her. She knew him all too well.

"It's too early to say...but I have a feeling. We need to talk to Susannah Moore's mother. And Mrs. Palley. Then I'll know if my hunch is worth anything."

Knowing she wouldn't get any more out of Jane, Teresa let the subject of his 'feeling' drop and switched on the radio for some soothing jazz. A bit of calm before dealing with more distraught people was just what they needed.


	5. What is IT?

Thank you for all the PM's and guesses regarding who our killer might be. Some of you would make great detectives, but so far, no one has this one figured out. Not surprising, you still don't have enough to work with. Maybe this will help...

Dead Ringer

Chapter 5

What is "IT"?

The man stood in front of his mirror assessing his appearance. The years had been good to him. Exercise and good genes had payed off in spades and he could still get any woman (or man) that he wanted. Checking his watch, he decided that if work didn't hold him up, he'd go out again tonight and see what fun he could have. Maybe he'd spread his charms farther afield than Markdale. Ever since his last kill, the women in town were too vigilant, too busy walking in little groups for him to have any luck luring one away. The three people he'd had to kill all deserved to die, but now he was quite willing to play Russian Roulette with someone totally innocent. That alone gave him a thrill and a hard-on.

Splashing cold water on his face to tamp down his excitement, he finished freshening up and put on his suit jacket. A spritz of cologne on his smooth face gave him a feeling of elegance and he left his small bathroom, to face his work colleagues once more. He still had a few hours to go before he could leave his office and venture out into the chilly night. Who knows what he'd get up to before morning?

(Austin FBI office, late afternoon)

Jane lay sprawled on his sofa with Teresa wedged into the end cushion, squished but comfy next to her quiet husband. It was understood by everyone in the bullpen that the sofa was the sole domain of Mr. and Mrs. Jane. You could sit there by invitation, but God help you if you felt bold enough to sit there uninvited and Jane caught you. He wouldn't do anything to you, nor say anything at the time, but he got his revenge in subtle ways. It might take days, maybe weeks, but eventually he would come up with something to convince you to never invade his personal space again. Once everyone in the bullpen got that message loud and clear, there were no more problems.

Jane was reading the autopsy reports on the pharmacist and the student nurse. Lisbon was reading the autopsy file that had just come in on Susannah Moore. Speed reading was Jane's forte, so he was finished reading both of his files by the time Lisbon had poured over her single report. When they were done, Patrick and Teresa switched paperwork and resumed their silent studies. A few "huh's!" and "mmmm's" escaped Jane's throat every now and then, making Teresa grin, but still they read on without interruption. After a long period of silence, Jane was ready to get moving. Standing to stretch his arms behind his back, Jane reached down and took Teresa by the hand.

"Coffee after all that depressing reading?" he asked.

"Yes please."

They walked towards the small kitchen, Jane seeming to be happy about something. Teresa wouldn't ask...no she wouldn't...not if she could help it…

Coffee was poured, tea was brewed and stirred...and stirred...and stirred. She didn't want to ask. Let him come out with it. He stood with his tea and sipped it contentedly. Gazing out of the wall of windows lining the bullpen, Jane seemed lost in thought. Lisbon couldn't take it anymore.

"Dammit Patrick! What is it? What did you find?" she said in exasperated resignation.

"It? Is there an it?" he teased, sipping his tea at the kitchen counter.

"I have ways to punish you for being such a jerk" Teresa said, an evil twinkle in her eye. "The sofa in the living room hasn't been slept on for a while. Maybe tonight you need to become reacquainted with your old friend" she said over her steaming mug.

"I'd get lonely down there all by myself" Patrick complained, looking forlorn.

"That would be the point Jane. Out with it. What caught your eye in the autopsies?"

Smiling broadly, Patrick walked Teresa back towards the sofa and put his arm around her shoulder when she snuggled up to him.

"Don't you think it's odd that a single grey wig hair was found on Carrie Klein's sweater when clearly she had a lovely head of thick blonde hair."

"No, I don't. We know that Carrie went to the nursing home that Sunday afternoon to visit with some of the patients. A grey wig hair would have come from one of the elderly ladies. Makes sense to me Jane."

"Uh huh."

"So? What's your point?"

"What about the blonde hair on Bill Palley's sleeve? He was balding and his wife doesn't have blonde hair" Jane said. "Forensics found these two artificial hairs on our victims. Why?"

Lisbon picked up the forensic report and scanned it for more information.

"Bill Palley's wife has alopecia. Almost all of her hair is missing Jane. She has a variety of wigs. Of course some of that hair would be on his jacket. And Carrie must have hugged one of the residents of the nursing home and got a hair on her sweater. As far as a clue goes, it's pretty thin Jane."

Patrick didn't seem convinced.

"Did anyone test the artificial hairs and compare them to wigs owned by Mrs. Palley or any of the wigs owned by little old ladies in the nursing home?"

Lisbon scanned the report and found nothing to support that question.

"I don't know. There's nothing in the forensic report or police report that I can see. How could that be missed?"

Jane nibbled on his lower lip and considered this glaring oversight.

"Bill Palley was killed 11 months ago by being bludgeoned with a baseball bat. Any fake hair on his jacket would be attributed to his wife, naturally. Months and months later, Carrie Klein is killed by cyanide poisoning after visiting a nursing home. Of course, the hair should have come from someone she had visited there. Why would anyone look further? The two murders were unrelated until today" he explained. "Sloppy investigative work, but understandable."

"Was an artificial hair found on Susannah Moore?" Teresa asked, picking up the newest forensic report to recheck that fact.

"Nope. Nada. Zilch. No fake hair on Susannah or her clothing."

"So? Doesn't that mean the wig hair is a false clue?"

"Maybe. Or Miss Moore was killed before her murderer had a chance to put on a disguise. Perhaps she died because he wasn't wearing a disguise."

"So she would have known him and discovered whatever he was doing…" Lisbon answered. "Jane, that's still pretty thin."

"I know. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We'll know more after we speak with the widow Palley and Dr. David Litchfield."

"There is one other thing that I saw in the autopsy reports. Both Carrie Klein and Susannah Moore had trace amounts of GHB in their urine.

"The date rape drug?" asked Lisbon. "I saw that. That's how the women were subdued."

"Uh huh...but there was more in Carrie's sample than Susannah Moore's. GHB can degrade quite fast, within 8-10 hours after being slipped into a drink. I agree, that must be how our perp got his hands on the two women. Bill Palley is still the anomaly" Jane added.

"The only thing linking Palley to these other two murders, the only thing, is the way he was left out on display. Except for that, his would considered a stand-alone crime."

"This case just gets stranger by the hour" Lisbon muttered. "We need to do more digging."

"And we will, but first, let's go pick up Anika and go home" Jane smiled. The best part of his day was when he scooped KiKi into his arms and swung her around. Pre-school kept her busy and happy all day but the evening was her special time with Mummy and Daddy.

Cho came out to speak with an agent and waved Teresa and Patrick over.

"I hear you went over to see Carrie's parents. How'd that go?"

"Not bad. They're still traumatized. We still don't know where Carrie went after she left the nursing home. Once we figure that out, we'll be a lot closer to finding our perp" Lisbon said.

"Tomorrow we're going to talk to Bill Palley's wife and then go to Litchfield Psychiatric Home. We plan to talk to Susannah Moore's mother too" Jane added. "A full day."

"Sounds good. See you in the morning" Cho said succinctly and turned back towards his office.

"Let's go see Dr. Litchfield first, before the local PD interviews him and gets him spooked" Jane suggested as he handed Teresa her bag and jacket. "Mrs. Moore can wait a bit longer."

"Sure. Will you be OK going to a psychiatric hospital, Jane?"

Jane stopped suddenly and looked up, unsmiling. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Teresa walked towards the elevator and felt embarrassed to have said something. "It's just that, well…. you know…"

Jane joined her then punched the 'down' button and turned to face his uneasy wife.

"Teresa, I spent months confined to a locked mental facility, for my own good, apparently. Do I ever want to go back to a hospital like that again? No. But we need answers and maybe we'll get something useful out of Dr. Litchfield."

The elevator door slid open and Patrick guided Teresa inside.

"As long as the door that closes behind me isn't locked from the other side, I'll be fine Teresa" he said with a grim smile.

Lisbon nodded tightly and held his hand. Talking about those terrible days had not gotten any easier in the intervening years. Jane's mental health seemed robust these days, a sure sign of his happiness with his status as a married man and father to a gorgeous, healthy and safe child. The idea of him wandering around a place with padded rooms gave Teresa the chills. No doubt, it had the same effect on Jane.

(Unicorn Pre-School)

The side yard of the school was full of high energy kids running and playing while they waited for their parents to show up and claim them. Patrick and Teresa stood at the fence and watched Anika as she played with a little boy, unaware that her parents stood proudly watching her. When she ran by, Teresa called out to her and instantly, Anika forgot about her playmate and screamed "Mummy! Daddy!", running over to the gate in the fence so that a teacher's aide could let her out.

Flinging herself into Teresa's arms, Anika had kisses for her mother and father as she wiggled around and told them the high points of her day. It was the same every day, Monday to Friday, and never got boring for Jane and Lisbon. KiKi was their whole world. Her chattering brightened their drive home and continued during supper and bathtime. She was a high energy, intelligent child, secure and unafraid of anything, well except maybe hairy caterpillars, but she was a Jane through and through. Some day, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

When bedtime finally rolled around, Anika curled up into a little ball holding her pink bunny, her soft kisses on Patrick's cheek and Teresa's nose a bedtime ritual. In fifteen minutes, she was asleep, and Patrick and Teresa could finally relax together on the sofa, putting their day behind them with a soothing glass of wine.

(Downtown Markdale, 11 p.m.)

The bar scene in Markdale was lively considering there were no Universities close by and it was a week night. A couple of community colleges provided the hordes of young people who wanted to blow off steam after studying all day. By 11 o'clock, the rowdiest of the kids were well fueled with cheap beer and shots and were hanging onto each other as they rolled out of one bar and went in search of a drink in another pub with grub.

Two slightly drunk, beautiful girls walked arm in arm, weaving down the sidewalk past pinball arcades and closed department stores. As they stopped to admire the clothes in the display window of the Macy's store, a man walked by and stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, almost falling. He was well dressed and left the trail of a manly scent behind him. One of the girls saw him stumble and impulsively reached out to steady him with her free hand.

"You OK Sir?" she asked as he righted himself.

He stood up to his full height, and smiled down at her. "Yes, yes I am. Clumsy of me...didn't see the uneven pavement. Thanks for stopping me from making a fool of myself!" he grinned, happy that his rescuer was so attractive.

The student took in his appearance and blushed under his intense gaze. He was at least 6 feet tall, slim with longish, wavy dark hair, maybe black, maybe dark brown hair. He had a straight, aquiline nose and dark eyes that seemed to twinkle in amusement. His teeth showed when he smiled and they were white against the dark night. His strong jaw was accented with a very trendy small beard and well trimmed moustache. He was well dressed in a suit with a long top coat over his jacket, leather gloves on his hands. He appeared to be a professional of some sort judging by his demeanor and wardrobe. A bit of a hipster but dressed like a banker. The whole package was definitely appealing to the slightly tipsy young woman who had reached out to help him.

"Glad to help" the girl chirped.

"Well, good night then" the man said with a smile and resumed his walk down the street.

Both girls stood and watched him go with regret. What a yummy guy…

"Oh honey. He could park his slippers under my bed tonight!" sighed the girl who had reached out to steady the man.

"After me Girl!" said her even more drunk friend. Seeing him disappear around the corner and out of sight, she pulled her friend away from the Macy's window and started to walk. "He's probably married...the good ones always are" she said sadly. It didn't matter, they'd never see him again. "Besides, he's too old for us!"

"Yup, probably married, but definitely not too old for me" nodded her girlfriend as she linked her arm through her friends arm. "Come on, time to catch our bus or we walk all the way back to the apartment."

They made their way down the street, alternately giggling and stumbling as they recounted the highs and lows of their evening out on the town. From a distant vantage point, a pair of calculating eyes followed them as they left the well lit street and ventured out onto a poorly lit side street. He had chosen his spot well, as always. He could wait just a bit longer. Then he'd make his move.

(Markdale Police Department, 12:15 a.m.)

A terrified young woman burst through the doors of the old police building, her hair in tatters and her makeup smeared. She only wore one shoe and was missing her handbag. She ran up to the desk Sergeant on duty and started to shout for help, beside herself with fear. A few heads turned and observed the clearly drunk and distraught young woman.

A female officer came around the desk and guided the young woman to a chair and tried to calm her down enough to find out what the problem was.

"He tried to kill me! He was going to kill me! I know it!" the young woman screamed, even now not feeling safe in the arms of a cop.

"Shhh...shhh..calm down. Calm down so that we can help you. Who tried to kill you?" the cop asked as more officers came over to help.

"A man, a man...he followed me...tried to take me away...but I fought him! I didn't want to die like that other woman! " the girl said, remembering hearing about a nurse found dead just the other day. Her eyes were as big as saucers, seeing her attacker clearly even now.

"Come inside and let us help you" the female officer said soothingly as she helped the young woman stand up, guiding her farther into the police station. The young woman smelled of alcohol, but her fear was real enough. Time to sober her up with coffee and see just how much of what she said was true.

(Public Parking Garage, Downtown Markdale)

A well dressed man walked quickly across the side street to the parking garage, his head down to prevent anyone from seeing his face, remembering him, just in case. That bitch girl had fought like a tigress, much to his surprise. Drunken floozies were supposed to be easier to handle than that. He was definitely off his game tonight. Thinking the event through as he reached his black car he realized he should have just invited her for a final drink, to cap off her evening. A little small talk, some flattery, a kiss, a little GHB in her drink and he could have eased her out of whatever hole in the wall bar they had gone to. Easy. Ten minutes later, he would be having some fun with her with zero resistance. When she woke up hours later she would have no memory of him or what he had done to her. No, this screw up was totally his fault. Fingering her phone, he had to decide whether or not she needed to be forgotten, or found. If she remembered him too well, it might just be expedient to end her...just like poor Susannah. He had taken the wallet out of the girl's purse and thrown the bag into a dumpster far away from where he had attacked her. He knew who she was, Lynn Michaels, and where to find her, should that become necessary.

He jammed his key into the ignition and floored the car, exiting in an anger filled rush to return to his safety zone, where no one would question his life or the unruffled professional exterior he had worked so hard to acquire. Tonight had been a dangerous mistake all right, one he wouldn't make again.


	6. Fear

Since so many asked for it, here is another chapter! It is extra long and full of new pieces of the puzzle. Have you got it figured out yet? Thank you to everyone who took the time to review the past chapters. Your interest makes me smile!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 6

Fear

Officer Pam Cruz guided the quivering young woman into the back of the police station, signalling for someone to bring the young woman a coffee. Once at her desk, the officer told her as kindly as she could to sit, then encouraged her to explain what happened.

"Can you tell me your name honey?" asked Officer Cruz.

"Lynn..my name is Lynn, Michaels."

"OK Lynn, can you tell me what happened to you tonight?"

Lynn grasped her coffee mug with both shaking hands and took a deep swallow of the hot liquid, it's harsh taste an antidote to the cheap beer she had so recently enjoyed.

"I was going home...on the 613 bus line...but he found me...and dragged me away…I was alone! He took my phone! He got me so fast!" she blurted out in a ragged voice.

"A man took you off the bus and tried to kidnap you? Did anyone see this happen?" asked Officer Cruz.

"No! No... not like that" the girl said with frustration.

She had so much to say but it was coming out all mixed up, a jumble of memories and impressions, his face leering at her as he put his arm tightly around her throat. That face haunted her. An involuntary chill emanating from somewhere deep inside her sent a shiver up her spine and she started to quake once more.

"It's OK Lynn, he isn't here anymore and you are safe. Just stay calm and tell me what happened as best you can remember" Officer Cruz said soothingly.

Lynn nodded her head, lifting her eyes to those large warm brown ones staring at her from across the desk, eyes full of compassion and motherly care. She tried to speak again.

"I was waiting for my bus. My girlfriend had already left so I was alone. No one else was standing there waiting with me. "

"And you had been out drinking earlier tonight?"

"Yes... Rania and I went pubbing for a few hours, met up with friends from college...just like we usually do...but then, he waited til I was alone and…"

"How did he find you Lynn?"

"He came around the corner and saw me there, waiting for the bus."

"Did this man take you before the bus arrived?"

"Yes! And I know him! I saw him before!" stated Lynn, confused and scared and trying to tell the cop everything but it all came out wrong, in the wrong order.

"When did you meet him before Lynn? Is he a friend of yours? Were you partying with him earlier tonight?"

Lynn shook her head vehemently.

"No...no... My girlfriend and I saw him on the street before we walked to our bus stop. I'd never seen him before. I have no idea who he is, but he seemed really nice when we met. Good looking, a banker or dentist...professional. But he's a creep! A lunatic who just wanted to hurt me!" Lynn cried, spilling her coffee onto her ripped jeans.

"OK, tell me where you saw him and exactly what happened. Then we can go from there" Cruz suggested to the hysterical girl.

"Raina, my friend, and I were done partying for the night and just wanted to go home. We have an early class in the morning so we couldn't stay out too late. We were outside the Macy's store, just looking at their front window, when this really hot guy walked by. He seemed to trip, on the sidewalk...so I helped him. He said thanks and then after a few minutes he left. I never saw him before but then he showed up at my bus stop and grabbed me!"

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"

"Sure. Raina and I both got a good look at him."

Lynn then gave a very accurate description of the man to the police officer and sipped on her coffee as her jangled nerves finally started to calm down.

"He must have been following us after he left, tracking us. That creep followed me until Raina took her bus and I was all alone. That bastard almost got away with it!" Lynn said with anger and fear. She had never come so close to dying before.

"What did the guy do to you Lynn? How did he grab you and where did he try to go with you?"

"He walked up to me and seemed surprised to see me again. I was flattered, he seemed interested in me. He stood beside me and said he'd keep me company until the bus arrived. Said he'd keep the creeps away so I could get home safely."

"Were you afraid of him Lynn? Did he seem dangerous then?"

"He seemed...really nice. Professional, like I said, you know? Like a gentleman. So I thought he was concerned about me standing alone in a dark spot. We just chatted until I got a text message from a friend. When I excused myself to reach into my purse to get my phone, he hit me across the face and put his arm around my throat. I dropped my phone and tried to get away, but he was choking me and dragging me into a dark corner that had a dumpster close by. He was so strong and bigger than me!"

"How did you get away Lynn? What stopped the attack?"

"I was kicking and screaming, punching and trying to get away but it wasn't working. Then I remembered some self defence stuff I learned last term in college. I dropped down through my knees, kind of like sinking to the ground, but not...you know? He wasn't expecting me to just drop down out of sight. By the time he realized I was out of his arms I was already running away, screaming at the top of my lungs. I left my purse behind and just kept running towards the lights of the street behind my bus stop. I could see people over there and he didn't dare follow me."

"You were very brave, and smart to do that Lynn. You saved your own life tonight. Would you know this man again if you saw him?"

"I'll never forget what he looks like. I can never forget his face. I wish I could. But he's got my phone and my purse! He'll come looking for me! He knows where I live now!" Lynn said as this new fact dawned on her.

"Where will I go?" she asked, panic in her voice.

"Lynn, I want to get a sketch artist down here so you can describe your attacker to her, then we can figure out where you can go tonight. Do you have family or friends you can stay with until we catch this guy?"

Lynn gazed off into the distance, trying to pull herself together enough to think of who to call for help.

"I guess I could call my Aunt, she lives in the next town over. Maybe I can stay with her…"

"Good. Let's do that Lynn" said Officer Cruz. She got on the phone and asked for the artist to come as soon as possible. Normally she wouldn't take such quick action on an assault like this, but since that nurse had turned up dead outside City Hall, she wasn't taking any chances.

Within fifteen minutes the area around the dumpster and the bus stop had been cordoned off so that the police could check for clues, anything that could lead them to the identity of this maniac. The next phone call Officer Cruz made was to her Captain. If this attacker was the person who had murdered three other people, Officer Cruz was willing to wake her boss up and take the heat if her hunch proved to be wrong. The growl on the other end of the phone wasn't unexpected, but his unwillingness to be as proactive as Pam Cruz wanted him to be was a disappointment. Unless she could prove this creep was also a serial killer, her Captain just wanted her to file a report and let him sleep.

After being chastised for waking her boss up, Cruz took another even bolder step. With shaking fingers she dialed the number on the information sheet that was posted on their Most Wanted board. She was calling the Austin branch of the FBI. This would probably get her fired, but what if this guy was THE guy? What if this was their best chance to catch a serial killer before he was successful a fourth time? She'd know soon enough.

(Austin, 8 a.m.)

Jane and Lisbon dropped Anika off at her pre-school and drove straight over to the Litchfield Psychiatric Hospital. Being there would be distasteful so Jane wanted to get it out of the way first thing in the day. He was quiet on the drive over, but Lisbon expected as much. Years ago, Patrick had been out of his mind after Charlotte and Angela were killed. His subsequent confinement in a secure facility most certainly saved his life, but the shame of it would always stay with Patrick, just under his carefully constructed veneer of self-assurance. Dr. Sophie Miller had saved his life back then, so many years ago, with patience and kindness and just enough force to make him listen to her, and only her. She had believed enough of his zest for life remained hidden under his catatonia and desire to die and join his family, that she had to bring his mind swimming back to the surface, to the harsh, unforgiving light of day. As Jane thought of Sophie, who had died as yet another of Red John's victims, he bit the corner of his lip and instinctively reached for Teresa's free hand as she drove to Litchfield. So many people dead, so many promising lives lost to psychopaths. Red John had helped to form what now would be the remainder of Jane's life, but a new serial killer was cutting his own historical swath through suburban Texas. While he didn't seem to be as bad as Red John yet, he had to be stopped before someone wrote books about him many years from now.

Lisbon turned off the main highway and followed the GPS directions to the Litchfield Psychiatric Home in an upscale neighbourhood. Set far back off the road, with a wide curving driveway, The Home looked more like an historic manor house than a small hospital for the mentally ill. The well-heeled neighbours tolerated the Home because it had been here first, when the original Dr. Litchfield owned most of the land in this part of the town. As large monster homes infringed ever closer to the Home, a wide berth was left all around the facility, as if to inoculate the surrounding properties and homeowners from being tainted by the demons that bedevilled the poor patients inside.

The original building was surprisingly small, but it had been built over eighty years ago by the current director's grandfather. In those days there really was no place to put mentally ill people other than jail or the lunatic asylum. Dr. Merle Litchfield was a pioneer in the more compassionate treatment of "crazy" people and realized that they were ill, not evil. At the time the home could house up to 30 people in rooms shared by 4 patients to a room. Now each patient got his or her own small room, with a much more home-like atmosphere to aid in their treatment and maybe, eventual release back into society. Additional buildings had been added onto the original structure, housing an expanded kitchen, recreation room, sun room and library.. Beyond those areas lay the heavily secured wing for the most mentally dangerous of Dr. Litchfield's patients. There were only two patients staying in this wing at the moment, but they were deemed too violent to be allowed to mingle with the other patients. They spent all of their days behind locked doors and were personally treated by David Litchfield himself.

This psychiatric home had a limited number of patients, by choice. Dr. Litchfield wanted the best for his patients and his staff spent a great deal of time with them, easing their way through treatment towards wellness. The small patient to doctor ratio was also due to an abundance of other mental health care facilities sprinkled throughout Texas, so now, only very rich and very discreet families put their mentally ill relatives in Litchfield for care. The facility was run by the grandson of the founder, Dr. David Litchfield.

Jane and Lisbon had not called ahead, preferring to speak to the good Doctor without prior warning. The one name that came up in every conversation regarding the murdered people was Litchfield Psychiatric Home. But Markdale was a small city, and it was entirely feasible that each of the victims had a reasonable connection with the Home. Lisbon found a parking spot right outside of the main office. When they entered the building, it looked more like an old, elegant hotel than a hospital. Heavy mahogany doors and trim coupled with refined decor was a surprise, left over from a much more architecturally ornate time. Finding the Reception Room at the beginning of a long carpeted hall, Jane and Lisbon entered to find the front desk was under the command of a prim, matronly woman of indeterminate age named Mrs. Rogers. Her steel grey hair was chiseled into a severe short bob, giving her a strained, harsh look. Looking up at the two strangers, Mrs. Rogers checked her schedule. These two weren't on it. She tried and failed to hide a frown.

"May I help you?" she asked, looking over her reading glasses at Lisbon with annoyance. Jane was already wandering around the small room, fingering magazines and toying with items on the receptionist's desk.

"Yes, we're here to speak to Dr. Litchfield…" Lisbon began, but was cut off before she could add that they were from the FBI.

"I'm sorry, but the doctor is busy today and can't see you without an appointment. Most people would make an appointment" Mrs. Rogers added, glaring at Jane as he put down a bronze paperweight that he found interesting. "I can check his calendar and see when he will be free."

"I'm sorry, but we need to see Dr. Litchfield today, now, actually" said Lisbon, as she pulled her FBI badge out of her pocket. Jane took his out as well and silently held it very close to the receptionist's nose in delight. She had to back her head up to prevent the plastic scratching her face.

"Oh! Ahh...I see...Agent Jane!" said the startled woman. Jane replaced his badge and smiled down at her in dominance. He loved to deflate pompous asses, male or female.

"Is the doctor in yet?" asked Jane, finally speaking.

"Dr. Litchfield is running late this morning, but should be here momentarily. I'll call and try to locate him. In the meantime, may I get you a coffee, a tea, water?" asked the nervous woman. Mrs. Rogers was totally off balance now. She had two real, live FBI agents in her office and she knew she had been shitty to them!

"Is that a hobby of his?" asked Jane with a sly grin.

"Is what a hobby of Dr. Litchfield?" asked the confused receptionist.

"Running? Is he a jogger? Is he running later than usual today?" he said, twisting the poor woman's words to use against her.

"Jane!" hissed Lisbon. "No coffee for me" she smiled. The receptionist was at a loss for words.

"Tea would be wonderful, thank you" beamed Jane. "English Breakfast, if you have it."

Mrs. Rogers stood up and headed towards the door before Jane stopped her.

"With milk, but add it to the cup first. And let the kettle really boil" he instructed her, seeing her indignation on the rise again. He was going to enjoy needling her for a while longer. The woman left in a controlled huff and as soon as she was gone, Lisbon rounded on her husband.

"Jane! Was that necessary? Making an enemy of the person who can deny us access to Dr. Litchfield?"

"Ahhh phfffft!" Jane replied with a smirk. "As if she'd be capable of keeping me away from anything I wanted!"

Lisbon sat down with a sigh, her husband already exasperating her and it wasn't even 9 a.m. yet. He hadn't behaved like this for a while...must be his way of exerting control over himself while being in this depressing place. Mental health facilities had that effect on him. It was all about control, and the fact he could voluntarily leave any time he chose to do so. Jane continued to cruise around the reception room, stopping every now and then to stare at a photo here and there, or to pick up a book and flip through it. One such book revealed an old black and white photo, which fell to the floor. It was a photo of two young boys, arm in arm, covered in mud, with goofy, gap-toothed grins on their faces. Obviously they were friends, cousins or brothers from a time when getting dirty outside was a natural consequence of summer vacation. Jane studied it for a few minutes before placing it back in the book and sliding it onto the shelf again.

The door opened and Mrs. Rogers came in with a small tray carrying Jane's tea and a small biscuit next to the cup. She had called Dr. Litchfield from the break room and told him to get down here.

"Please, enjoy" she smiled grimly, not convincing anyone that she was pleased to give Jane what he wanted.

"Thank you very much, I certainly will" he grinned, inhaling the aroma of the breakfast tea. "Cookie?" he asked, holding it out to his wife.

Lisbon shook her head. Let him eat it. It would occupy his mouth and save her more embarrassment.

Mrs. Rogers busied herself with small tasks to avoid speaking to her two intimidating guests, praying that Dr. Litchfield would show up soon and take these two Agents out of her reception room.

By the time Jane took his last sip of tea, the door opened and a tall, dark haired athletic looking man strode in, his hand out in greeting. Lisbon shook it and and identified herself. Jane held up his badge and added, "Patrick Jane, Consultant" as if that was enough to explain everything to the doctor.

"Sorry I'm late, had a bit of a confrontation with a patient this morning" said Dr. Litchfield in explanation. He had a bruise high on his cheekbone.

"Must be a hazard of the job" Lisbon said, eyeing his injury.

"Unfortunately, yes. Sometimes a punch lands and I forget to duck" he admitted sheepishly.

He held open the door and guided Jane and Lisbon out into the hallway.

"Please, let's go to my office where we can talk in private" he suggested. He was confident and professional. Lisbon could see why people liked him. His office was at the end of the hall and decorated in a style more reminiscent of his grandfather's generation than the present.

Dr. Litchfield opened the door and ushered Jane and Lisbon inside, but was waylaid by a nurse who stopped him to ask a question about a patient. While he stood in the hall speaking to the nurse, Jane used this moment to cast his eye rapidly around the office while Lisbon sat down in a large leather chair facing the doctor's desk. Jane walked behind the desk and studied the large wall unit housing books and knick knacks from the doctor's past. As he leaned his hand on the desk, Jane's index finger struck something sticky. As he raised his fingers to see what bit of food he had had the misfortune to touch on the otherwise clean desk, the doctor entered the room and glared at Jane for being behind the desk.

"Can I help you Mr. Jane?" the doctor asked sharply.

"Sorry, just admiring the football trophy here" Jane said, closing his hand over the sticky substance and pointing to a completely uninteresting item. Jane brushed past Dr. Litchfield and sat down in the other leather chair, grinning at Lisbon like he had won a prize. Dr. Litchfield sat behind his desk and folded his hands across his belly in expectation.

"So, how can I help you Agents? Is it about Susannah Moore, I expect?"

"Yes. We would like to get some information about her time here. Was she a good nurse?" Lisbon asked, starting off with general, soft ball questions.

"She was, yes, a very good nurse and we were lucky to have her. Unfortunately, she was only here for...let me think...5 or 6 months, before...ahh..before she died. Do you have any idea who would want to hurt such a great person?" the doctor asked.

"No, no idea, but we'll know soon" Jane interjected, leaning forward in his chair.

The doctor was surprised at this statement so soon after the discovery of the dead woman's body, but seemed pleased. "Well that is good news. Did you have a witness come forward, or some other evidence to help with the case?"

"Something else...but it's too soon to say we have it solved. Did you have any problems with Miss Moore? Did she follow orders or try to run things her own way?" Jane asked, garnering him a quizzical look from Lisbon. What was he angling for?

"Susannah was a team player and was a pleasure to work with. Feel free to speak to my staff and see how they felt about her. As for me, if all of my nurses were like Susannah, my job would be much easier" said the doctor with a smile. Jane smiled back and let the conversation pause for a moment. When the silence became annoying, he spoke up again.

"Carrie Klein" said Jane, and then stopped.

Dr. Litchfield's smile fell off his face. He waited for Jane to continue. When he didn't, he had to fill the uncomfortable silence with a comment.

"Carrie Klein. Yes, she was a sweetheart. A lovely young woman just starting out in life. What a shame she didn't get a chance to live her dreams."

"Yes...a shame" echoed Jane, unimpressed with the Doctor's saccharine and predictable response.

"I understand Carrie volunteered here during her senior year in high school for a few weeks. Did you have a good relationship with her?" asked Lisbon.

"I did. She was a very mature girl, more mature I think than a lot of kids her age. She knew by then that she wanted to be a nurse, so her commitment to her work was very strong. Whatever we asked her to do, she did it without complaint or comment. A great person all around."

"What did you discuss with her when she came to visit you that last Sunday, the Sunday she died?" Jane asked the doctor.

Lisbon hid a smile behind her hand. What the hell was Jane up to?

Dr. Litchfield looked confused. "Carrie didn't come to see me that day. The last time I saw her was when she finished working here in her last term at high school. Why would you think she came here on the day she died? Who said she did?" the doctor asked defensively.

"Can't say...I must have been mistaken, sorry" Jane said, waving his comment away as if batting an annoying fly.

"Believe me, I wish Carrie had come here instead of going wherever she went. If I had visited with her, maybe she'd still be alive today" David Litchfield said with evident regret.

"I'm sure" agreed Jane sympathetically. Then he had an idea.

"Would it be possible to take a little tour of this wonderful place?" Jane asked suddenly, changing subjects again. "The building is beautiful, and I understand you do good work here."

Dr. Litchfield relaxed and appreciated the praise.

"Well, thank you! Yes, my grandfather built a beautiful refuge for the mentally ill people in this part of Texas. It's a privilege to live on the premises and carry on his work. I can have one of my staff show you around. The only place you will not be granted access is the locked wing where our most violent patients are housed. I couldn't vouch for your safety if they got upset with new people in their midst. Other than that, look all around. And with that, I really must get to work. My patients thrive on a schedule, so I don't want to mess with that" Dr. Litchfield said, standing up and offering his hand to Lisbon again.

"Thank you for seeing us without notice" she said graciously.

"Yes, thank you. We'll see ourselves out" said Jane, opening the door for Teresa and the doctor. As the white coated doctor walked through the door at the end of the hall, Lisbon turned to Jane with a grin and had to ask.

"OK, what was all that about?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, oh...you do good work...what did you and Carrie talk about that last Sunday…" Lisbon mimicked Jane. "You knew that Carrie didn't come here that day, so why let the doctor think you believed that?"

"Well first thing, you get more out of people with honey than with vinegar, and, we actually don't know that Carrie didn't come here after she left the nursing home. Come on, consider it Lisbon. She went to the nursing home because the people meant something to her. Wouldn't she feel the same way about some of her patients here too? She may well have come here, and that doctor could have been the last person to see her alive!"

Before Teresa could answer, a door opened and a young nurse walked towards them.

"Dr. Litchfield asked me to give you a tour of our facility. I'm Claire Black, nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too Miss Black" said Teresa while Jane shook the young woman's hand.

"Patrick Jane. A pleasure. Shall we begin?"


	7. Unlocked Doors

It's almost the weekend, so time to drop another chapter to tease you over the next few days. Good guesses have come in about the killer, or motives for the killings, but so far it is still a mystery. I have the smartest readers! Thank you for the reviews, they work their magic!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 7

Unlocked Doors

(Austin FBI - 9 a.m.)

Cho sat looking at a police report concerning an assault on a young woman the night before. A uniformed cop, Officer Pam Cruz, had called in the crime and felt it might be related to the serial murders happening in and around Markdale Texas. To Cho, it looked like a vicious attack on a young woman, but a crime of opportunity unrelated to the serial murders. The victim's own quick thinking may have prevented a rape, but was Lynn Michaels ever in danger of being murdered? Sighing deeply, Cho hated to dedicate resources to this crime when he had his hands full trying to contain hysteria in Markdale while finding a serial killer with a penchant for using chemical weapons. Why did Officer Cruz drop this in his lap? His first inclination was to push this report off to a junior agent to investigate without taking any more of his time away from solving the larger crime.

But what if Officer Cruz was right? Cho had been a cop for too long to totally dismiss this outright. Smaller things had led to the capture of equally dangerous criminals. He decided to call Officer Cruz herself before he moved on to bigger and more pressing issues.

(Markdale Police Department)

Pam Cruz had not slept well the previous night. Her call to the FBI was intimidating and she hoped she had not made a fool out of herself. It was hard enough to be a female cop, but to cry "wolf" unnecessarily would make her the laughing stock of the department until her dying day so this had better not be her undoing. Her Captain was already pissed off with her for waking him up last night.

She came in early to get her thoughts in order since she wasn't sleeping anyway. At 9:15 her phone rang.

"Markdale Police, Officer Cruz. What can I do for you?"

"Officer Cruz, this is Senior Agent Kimball Cho of the Austin FBI. I have your report on my desk about the assault of a young woman last night. Why did you call it in to us?"

Cho always got right to the point.

This was it. Her biggest fear. Pam Cruz now knew full well she had screwed up. God Almighty, a Senior Agent was on the phone with her demanding an explanation! Hoping her voice was steady, she summed up her resolve and said her piece.

"Agent Cho, thank you for calling back. In light of the recent murder of Susannah Moore, and the murder of Carrie Klein a few months back, I just had a feeling that perhaps this wasn't an attempted rape. This could have been the serial killer trying for another woman."

"What makes you think so Officer Cruz? How many rapes and attempted rapes does your precinct investigate every year, or every month? What makes this one different?"

Cruz ran her finger over the paper in front of her. On it was a clue that she found unsettling.

"Reported rapes in Markdale are low, lower than the national average" Officer Cruz pointed out. "Agent Cho, I have the investigative report from that attack in my hand. Our guys went out and looked for anything they could find to identify this guy. There wasn't much to go on since it happened in a very dirty area by a dumpster, but we did find an odd thing."

"Go on…"

"Our Uni's found part of a fake beard on the ground. Looks like it was ripped off during the struggle. The glue was still tacky. I think our perp was wearing a disguise."

Cho sighed. That was it? That was the big clue?

"Officer Cruz, if I wanted to rape someone, I might want to disguise myself too. How does this crime link up to our serial killer?"

Pam Cruz didn't know how it was related but she had a feeling. At least she did last night, but it was rapidly being replaced with a sense of foolishness in the cold light of day.

"I just thought...it took planning...not impulsive like most attacks on young women. Why would a guy go out of his way to make himself so memorable and so attractive to women, if he later could be identified by not one girl but two? The victim and her friend both met and spoke with the guy earlier. He was taking a big chance to show himself so clearly, but he felt emboldened by wearing a disguise. Not your average sexual predator."

"If he killed this woman, it wouldn't matter that another woman had seen him. Only the dead woman would know who her attacker was" Cho argued, playing devil's advocate.

Cruz paused, knowing that Rania might not have realized the handsome man was her friend's attacker if he had been successful and had raped, then killed her.

"But Agent Cho, we have forensic evidence now, we have the beard he was wearing. It could match up with something the FBI finds, possibly linking all the crimes. Worth a shot, don't you think so?" she added.

Cho listened. She had a point. Not the usual M.O. of a rash, random sexual attack, and that beard was a strong piece of evidence, one way or the other. He'd cut her some slack.

"OK, can you have the beard fragment sent to us here in Austin? I'd like to keep it as possible forensic evidence in case anything else does comes in. If it's unrelated to our case, you'll get it back to use as evidence if you catch your perp."

"Will do. Thank you for calling Agent Cho. Let's hope it helps both cases" added Officer Cruz.

Cho hung up and Officer Cruz felt a rush of exhilaration. The Agent hadn't told her she was a fool nor had he shut her down without a discussion. Suddenly her day seemed a bit brighter!

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home)

Jane and Lisbon followed the nurse around as she took them through the recreation room, explaining the activities the patients could amuse themselves with, then they toured the immaculate kitchen. The sun room was full of patients who stared at their unexpected visitors, then Lisbon and Jane were led to the patient rooms, which were now empty while the residents were in therapy or playing checkers. Overall, the atmosphere at the Litchfield Psychiatric Home was one of cheery optimism. The Home was impressive and far cosier than the facility Jane had been confined to, but back then, he was on suicide watch, cutting his arm and painting his walls with bloody smiley faces. His room was sterile, white and heavily locked from the outside. Not quite the same situation. Even so, he shuddered involuntarily when the nurse led them past a heavy, steel, reinforced door with a lock on it that would only open if you had an electronic key card. Knowing Teresa was with him helped, keeping him grounded. He had survived his stint in a mental facility, perhaps these poor souls would too.

As the nurse stood and talked about the treatment options available to the patients at the Home, Jane wandered away and stood at the steel door, gazing through a small, wire-meshed window, looking down a gleaming but barren hallway. There were four doors set into the green painted walls. Somewhere in there, two extremely dangerous patients lay on their beds, safely locked away from society and the dangers they could wreck against innocent victims. The memory of such a room played over and over in Jane's mind, as well as Dr. Sophie Miller's soothing voice as she told him he was strong enough to live, that he _needed_ to live. As his thoughts revolved around those dark days, a cool hand on his arm roused him back to the present.

"Jane? Are you alright?"

Lisbon was staring at him in concern. He had totally zoned out and wasn't hearing her speak his name. Until now.

"Yup...sure...just thinking…" he lied, straightening his jacket and turning to smile at the young nurse as she finished her spiel about Dr. Litchfield's plans for the future of the Home.

"Thank you for the tour. It was very interesting" Jane smiled. "Ahhh, Lisbon, we've got to get back to work." Turning to the nurse, he said added "Tell Dr. Litchfield we appreciate taking up so much of his time."

He was happy to get back outside into the real world.

"You're welcome. I'll tell the doctor you said goodbye" the young woman said cheerily as she turned to resume her duties for the day.

Once outside, Jane stood on the sidewalk and took a deep breath, tipping his head up to the limited sun in the overcast sky.

"You OK?" Teresa asked.

"Never better. Let's get out of here. I've seen enough."

Jane absently-mindedly rubbed his sticky index finger against his thumb, looking forward to washing his hands.

"What's that you've got there?" asked Lisbon.

"The doctor's breakfast I'm afraid" Jane said with disgust. "He could do with using the staff dining room."

Jane walked to the car and sat in the passenger seat, staring at the old building. Taking a paper wipe out of the glove box, he rubbed at his sticky finger in disgust and put the paper in his pocket to throw out later.

"You got your wish" Lisbon said cryptically.

Jane eyed her with confusion. "What wish is that?"

"We're on the unlocked side of the door" she smiled as she drove away, back towards Austin. Jane didn't even try to hide his grin.

(Markdale)

The man looked at the remainder of his torn fake beard and huffed in frustration. Those things weren't cheap, not the good ones made of real human hair. Now he'd have to order another one. Good thing money was no object. All things considered, even though he had been unsuccessful, the whole event the night before had been exciting. He hadn't done anything so impulsive, so pointless, for a long time. Maybe that's what he needed to do more often: stupid and pointless things that were unrelated to his world and his vendettas. Fortunately for him, there seemed to be an unending supply of beautiful, stupid and drunk young women at his disposal every night. He could wait to grab another one soon enough. He straightened his tie and put on his suit jacket. Time to become an upstanding citizen once again. He composed his demeanor and opened his office door, blending in with everyone walking by.

(Busy Bee Cafe, Austin Texas)

Teresa pulled up at the Cafe and parked. Jane had been unusually quiet on the drive back to the city, but she expected this and gave him time to get over his trip to the psychiatric facility. It was 10:30 a.m., time for a coffee break and a pastry to get him back on track.

"I hear this place has the best bagels and donuts in Austin. Care to give it a try?" she cajoled Jane as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door.

Jane turned to face her and smirked. "So you're cheating on Marie?" he teased, getting out of the car as well.

"Nothing will replace the pastries at Marie's, not possible. But that's on the other side of the city. Let's give the Busy Bee a try" she explained.

"Sounds good" Jane smiled, glad to be outside with his wife.

Ten minutes later they were in a booth with a chocolate croissant and steaming cup of tea in front of Patrick, while Teresa opted to try the house special, a huge cheese Danish with a large cup of coffee.

"That thing is the size of Lake Travis!" Patrick teased Teresa. "You aren't eating for two are you?"

"Oh ha ha...I just couldn't resist. I'll do 10 more laps on the track tomorrow to pay for my sins" she said as she bit into the moist, fragrant confection. Her moans of approval made Patrick smile. He'd be totally OK if she was eating for two…

"So what do you make of Dr. Litchfield?" Teresa asked between bites of her Danish.

Patrick wiped some chocolate off his fingers and rubbed at the sticky index finger again before taking a sip of his tea. Orange hibiscus. So good.

"He's just what I expected. Went to the best schools, graduated in the upper third of his class at med school, loves being in control of his legacy career. Doesn't have to compete for his position at a large hospital. He's got a great life. A great person…"

"A great person? That doesn't sound like you Jane."

"His words, not mine. Did you notice when he described Susannah Moore, he said she was a great person? Then five minutes later, he said Carrie Klein was a great person. How often do you describe someone as a great person Teresa?"

Lisbon pulled a face and sipped her coffee. "Ummm, never? I mean, it's not my go-to description of someone."

"And yet Dr. Litchfield used that expression twice in five minutes. Sounded rehearsed to me. Or maybe he just doesn't know how to have a conversation."

"Or that's just the way he talks. Don't judge him on the way he likes to describe people. People tend to parrot the way others around them talk. His parents might have spoken like that" Teresa corrected Jane.

Jane scrunched up his face. He wasn't convinced. "Sounds like a used car salesman."

"Really!"

"Yes, really."

Jane let the subject drop while he swirled the last bit of his tea around in his cup.

"Eat up little bird, we have to get over to Susannah Moore's mother's house before she takes a nap" Jane suggested, taking his last slurp of the delightful concoction before wiping his already clean face. Lisbon took her last bite of Danish and swallowed her coffee before catching up to Jane at the counter as he paid for their food.

Once in the car, she looked over at the Busy Bee and groaned in satisfaction.

"I think this is my new favourite place in Austin...after Marie's!"

"It's a tie. When we're in the neighbourhood, we'll come here. When we're closer to the office, we can go to Marie's. A win-win" Jane agreed.

With that Lisbon pulled away while Jane fiddled with the GPS, putting Mrs. Moore's address into it. They would be there in 20 minutes. Jane dialed the woman's phone number and let her know they were on their way over. Then he settled back to relax and mull over his morning. There was a lot to think about.

(Beth Moore's House, Austin Texas)

Teresa stood on the front porch of a large bungalow in a lovely old neighbourhood of Markdale. Jane faced the street, admiring the traditional architecture and lush greenery. Not too many of these neighbourhoods existed anymore. Ringing the doorbell, Teresa wasn't sure what to expect from Susannah Moore's mother. Susannah had come back home to Markdale to care for her elderly mother. Perhaps she was very infirm, feeble and heartbroken over her daughter's death. This was going to be a difficult interview.

Ringing the doorbell again in case the older woman was a bit deaf, Teresa waited patiently. Suddenly the front door was pulled open by a tall, very well preserved silver haired woman leaning on a walker. She looked anything but feeble.

"Sorry, didn't hear the bell the first time. I broke my hip some time ago and it takes awhile for me to get around the house now. Agent Jane?" Mrs. Moore said, looking from Teresa to Patrick and back again.

"I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane, and this is my husband, Patrick Jane. He's a consultant with the FBI."

"Well I'm pleased to meet both of you. Do come in" the woman said graciously, pointing inside.

Patrick held the door for both women and followed behind them. The house was beautifully decorated in a timeless way, not old fashioned as would be expected since a woman in her 80's lived here, and certainly not trendy in an HGTV way. No, it was refined, reserved and well appointed. The woman had taste.

"I made some fresh lemonade if you get thirsty Agents" Mrs. Moore indicated, a tall pitcher standing on her coffee table in the living room.

"Thank you, that's very considerate of you" said Patrick, liking this no-nonsense woman instantly.

"I need to keep busy now that…." Mrs. Moore paused and cleared her throat. "Now that I'm alone again."

"Mrs. Moore, we're very sorry for your loss. We're doing everything we can to find out who killed your daughter. That's why we wanted to speak with you today, even though it's so soon after Susannah's death" Lisbon said, afraid to upset the older woman.

"I will be burying my daughter tomorrow afternoon. Everything is arranged. If speaking to you will help to find the murderer, it's the least I can do for Susannah. Now please, what do you want to know?"

The woman arranged herself carefully on the sofa, easing into a cushion to protect her healing hip.

"Mrs. Moore, we know Susannah came back to Markdale to help you before and after your surgery. Did she ever tell you about any concerns she had about her safety?" Teresa started, treading carefully.

"Susannah was a very strong woman, quite able to take care of herself. Her father and I didn't coddle her and make her unable to stand up for herself. If someone was bothering her, she would have probably flattened him with her fist. But no, she never mentioned that someone was bothering her or abusing her. She would have said something. We were very close."

"How did she like working at the Litchfield Home? Was she happy there?" Jane asked.

"Susannah loved nursing, whether it was in Houston, Dallas or here in Markdale. She had to adjust to a much smaller hospital of course, since the psychiatric home is so small compared to a huge city hospital, but I know she liked her fellow nurses. The work wasn't hard, and she got home in time for supper every night. She loved that aspect of the job."

"Isn't that unusual? I mean, don't nurses work in shifts?" asked Teresa, remembering her mother's constantly changing hours and shifts. She was rarely home for supper.

"Well when she worked at the big hospitals she worked a rotating shift. But here in Markdale, Dr. Litchfield wants everyone to go home to their families as much as possible at the end of the day. He is very kind to his staff. Since he lives at the Home, he is there to take care of any emergencies that arise. Only a skeleton crew works from 6 in the evening until 6 in the morning. That's what Sue told me."

"Nice for the staff" agreed Jane, mulling this information over in his mind.

"Yes, that was a perk Sue really liked" said her mother wistfully. "She was happy there."

"And how did Susannah get along with the doctors on staff? Any problems?" prodded Lisbon.

"Well, there are only a couple of other doctors there beside Dr. Litchfield. They all seem nice enough. Susannah was comfortable there because she wasn't the only new staffer there. Both doctors had been there for less than a year, and the two other nurses joined the staff in the last 9 or 10 months."

"No one has been there for more than a year?" said Jane in surprise. "Did Susannah say why, or what happened to the other staff members who worked there over a year ago?"

Mrs. Moore struggled to remember. Susannah had been wondering the same thing, and when she asked Dr. Litchfield, he had explained it away...what did he say…?

"I think Dr. Litchfield likes to move his staff around. Sue said something about the doctors there being hired on for 6 to 12 month terms, then they would rotate out to another facility somewhere else to expand their training in a larger teaching hospital."

"And the nurses? Why would they leave?" asked Teresa. Her mother had been a nurse and was happy to stay in one place for as long as possible because it gave her financial security and friendships over many years.

"Well, I don't know why the nurses didn't stay long. But you know, Susannah was only there for 6 months herself. Maybe after a year or so she would have moved on to another place, a bigger place. So maybe that's what the other nurses planned to do. I guess it would look good on their resumes" suggested Mrs. Moore.

"So Susannah wasn't distressed about anything going on in her life as far as you know?" Jane tried again.

Mrs. Moore started to get up to pour herself a glass of lemonade, but Jane stood up to do it for her.

"Thank you Mr. Jane. Now to answer your question...Sue seemed perturbed about something the last few days, last week. I asked her if there was something I could help her with, but she said it was nothing and that everything was just fine. She seemed to be handling whatever was upsetting her. I guess I'll never know what it was now."

She paused thoughtfully and gazed at a photo of her daughter sitting on the low table. Jane took this as an opportunity to do some snooping.

"Would you mind if I looked at her room, at her things? Sometimes I can pick up something from the deceased by handling their personal items" Jane asked.

Mrs. Moore waved her hand and shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess it doesn't matter now. I have to go through everything at some point, so go ahead. I hope you find something useful in there."

Mrs. Moore pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the right. Turn off the light please when you're done."

Jane stood up and walked away, gazing at everything he passed. Finding the room, Jane took a moment to stand in the doorway staring at the bedroom, soaking up the woman's personality in every aspect of this, her most private space. Susannah Moore's room was as neat as a pin, with no excess clutter. It was clean and organized, everything in its place. Typical of someone in her profession.

Stepping into the room, Jane went straight to the closet. It was organized by clothing colour and type, long items together, short skirts and dresses together. A shelf held an assortment of boxes, but they revealed nothing of importance. Turning to the tall dresser beside the window, Jane studied everything on it. A small jewellery box stood in the centre, flanked by a photo of Mrs. Moore and her late husband and a beautiful antique hair combing set. Jane carefully opened the box and examined a few pieces of heirloom jewellery Susannah's mother or grandmother had given to her. The rest was costume jewellery and uninteresting. There was nothing here to help in his investigation.

Jane walked over to the night was a book on it, the page marked. A single drawer in the night table was slightly open and it piqued Jane's curiosity. Pulling it open, he saw a small wooden box, which held more old family photos and mementos. Wedged under everything, Jane spied a tiny piece of thick paper, folded into a tiny square. Opening it up, he realized it was an old black and white photo. Staring back at him was the face of a young man, wearing a wide grin, standing beside a bicycle, with another young man far in the distance, seemingly calling out in anger. Written on the back in a childish scrawl were two initials: D & M.

What was Susannah Moore keeping this photo for? Who were these kids? Why fold it up and partially hide it? Tucking it into his pocket he intended to ask Mrs. Moore if she knew its value. The rest of the room gave no indication of upset or turmoil in Susannah's life. This was unhelpful. Clearly he would have to find clues to her death elsewhere.

When he returned to the living room Teresa was looking at a photobook with Mrs. Moore. After a few more minutes, Mrs. Moore closed the book and set it aside.

"Did you find anything useful in Sue's room Mr. Jane?"

Jane stepped forward and showed the older woman the wrinkled photo.

"Do you know who these boys are? I found it in Susannah's night table."

Mrs. Moore stared at the photo and rubbed her forehead in thought. D & M...nothing came to mind. Shaking her head in confusion, she handed the photo back to Jane.

"I've never seen this before. I have no idea who these kids are. Sorry."

"It's OK, probably nothing. Ahh...Lisbon? We've taken up enough of your time Mrs. Moore. Thank you for speaking with us" Jane said, as Lisbon took the hint and stood up as well.

"If you remember anything that you think would be important, just call" she added.

Jane and Lisbon gave Mrs. Moore their business cards and started to walk towards the front door. Mrs. Moore struggled to get up to walk them out.

"Please, it's fine, we'll see ourselves out. Goodbye Mrs. Moore" said Jane.

"Goodbye Agents. Find my baby's killer" she called as they reached the door. Even though the woman was in her 80's, her child would always be her baby.

Jane walked Lisbon to the car and opened the door for her, then walked around to his side of the vehicle.

Sitting at the curb, neither of them was in a hurry to drive away.

"Strong woman" said Teresa, considering how she would react if her daughter was killed far in the future. The thought was horrendous.

"Very. She's been through a lot. So let's catch that son of a bitch and let her rest a bit easier" said Jane, uncharacteristically harsh.

Lisbon pulled away while Jane studied the photo again. What compelled Susannah Moore to hide that photo? Who was those boys? Re-folding it and putting it into a small inside pocket in his vest, Jane put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. The more they learned the murkier the case became.


	8. Something New

Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews and tried to guess what's going on. The clues are dropping like confetti at a wedding. Rosepeony, I'll put you out of your misery and post another chapter. This one's for you kiddo! And for you dog lovers out there, say hello to Sadie.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 8

Something New

(8:30 a.m.)

Lynn Michaels didn't get up for school today. She was so terrorized by her encounter with that vicious man last night that the thought of going out and mingling with other people paralyzed her with fear. She lay curled up in a tight ball under the floral blanket on the bed her Aunt was letting her use. Her Aunt Mary wasn't the warm and fuzzy type, but she welcomed Lynn with open arms once she heard what her niece had suffered. While Lynn sheltered in the narrow bed, an ugly thought revealed itself. She couldn't stay here in hiding forever. Sooner or later, she'd have to get up, get dressed and go back out into the city, get on a bus, walk through a crowd and go back to college. The very idea of accomplishing that made her weak in the knees. As a wave of panic washed over her, Lynn tried to reason her way out of her catatonic state.

'You've got to get up and go to school. The classes won't wait for you. HE doesn't know where you go to school. HE isn't waiting around to find you again. What's done is done. He probably just wanted to scare you (mission accomplished) and won't try to find you. Get out of bed you wuss.'

It was a pep talk to herself, but she wasn't buying it...not for a minute. That bastard could easily hunt her down and finish what he had started.

Oh God...

Lynn let these thoughts rattle around in her brain for a good ten minutes until the exhausting cycle of self-recrimination was broken by her Aunt's voice, calling her to breakfast. While sympathetic to her niece's situation, Aunt Mary was also a firm believer in pulling yourself together and just getting on with it. So, get up and get on with your life Lynn!

"Lynn honey, time to get up. It's already late and you need to eat!"

The enticing aroma of bacon and eggs, coffee and who knew what else Aunt Mary had cooked up for her was indeed a shove in the right direction. Lynn rolled over in bed and sighed deeply. Today was a wash. Too late to take a bus to school even if she had the nerve. Best stay here and talk it out with her no-nonsense Aunt. Maybe tomorrow she'd be brave enough to face the world again.

(|FBI - Austin)

Jane was in the kitchen making a cup of tea when Cho came around the corner, an empty coffee cup in his hand.

"Jane"

"Morning Cho."

Cho busied himself with pouring then fixing his coffee. Once it was just to his liking, he leaned against the counter and took a large sip. He and Jane had had words the other day, as was necessary. Time to get things back to normal.

"How'd it go yesterday with Dr. Litchfield and Mrs. Moore?"

"Mrs. Moore is very strong, surprisingly so" Jane observed. "She doesn't know anything that helps us much, only that the staff at the Home seems to be almost entirely new, with no one working there now who has been there longer than 10 or 11 months. That's odd" Jane said, stirring his tea, deep in thought.

"Maybe they're just on short term contracts. Cheaper to hire staff that way and easier to get rid of people who don't fit in" suggested Cho.

"Maybe..could be…" Jane agreed, but not agreeing at all.

"And Dr. Litchfield? Was he cooperative?"

"Very. He spoke highly of Carrie and Susannah. Said they were great people - his words. He let us go on a tour of the place, didn't seem to have anything to hide."

"Are you suspecting him of anything Jane?"

Jane put his teacup back into the matching blue saucer on the counter and faced his old friend.

"No. Nothing makes me suspect him of being anything other than ambitious, smarmy and successful in a niche market carved out by his grandfather and father. The Home is a legacy career he inherited. Nice life as long as the funding keeps coming in."

"So now what?"

"We didn't get over to see Mrs. Palley yesterday, so Teresa and I will go there first thing. Anything new turn up in the way of witness reports or evidence?" Jane asked hopefully.

Cho washed out his cup and set it aside on the draining rack.

"Nothing that's useful. We got a call from a Uni in Markdale who thinks an attack on a young college student might have been our guy, but there's nothing to support her claim."

"Evidence? Forensics find anything?"

"Her purse and phone were taken by the perp, so the girl's gone into hiding, afraid he'll come back for her if she goes home to her apartment. Local PD dug around at the scene and found part of a fake beard on the ground, most likely torn off while the girl tried to escape."

"If it came from our guy" Jane added.

"That's the problem. There's a small local theatre company not too far from that location. The beard could have been torn off our perp or fell out of one of their garbage bags" Cho suggested.

"Did anyone speak to the theatre people?"

"Markdale PD will do that today, but the chances of them knowing where that beard came from or even who might have worn it are pretty slim" Cho admitted.

Jane drummed his fingers together, this new piece of information raising all sorts of possibilities for him.

"How convenient that the attack happened so close to a place filled with disguises and costumes. Our guy could work there and have access to whatever he needs to change his appearance, hunt down the people he has a grudge against, then the costumes and props go back and no one has any idea who the killer is...except he lost part of his beard this time around" Jane mused.

Cho had to agree, and suddenly, the attack on Lynn Michaels had become much more compelling.

"I'll send a couple of our guys over to the theatre as well. They can search the place, interview the crew and actors. See what shakes out."

"What about DNA on the beard?"

Cho scrunched up his face. That was a long shot. Between the dirt and general filth around the dumpster, and the crud stuck to the sticky glue on the fragment of beard, it was going to be difficult to get anything useable off the beard. Nevertheless, Cho planned to order a full analysis, just to tick all the boxes.

"The lab will do a work up on the beard as soon as I get it down to them."

"If you get anything off the beard, match it up to any DNA that might be on the wig hairs found on Bill Palley and Carrie Klein" Jane suggested. "Can't hurt, might provide a link."

Cho nodded slightly and washed his hands under the tap. "It's a stretch to assume the assault on a drunk college student is linked to 3 murders Jane. It doesn't fit the profile we're building."

"I know. But when Bill Palley was killed, the local pathologist in Markdale missed the cyanide in his body. The fact that his head was bashed in seemed to be the obvious cause of death" he reminded Cho. "Mistakes were made in that first investigation by the local police department. It was only after the two women were murdered and left on display that anyone considered that the pharmacist might be a victim of the same killer. If our pathologist hadn't rechecked the tissue samples taken from Palley, we might never have connected him to the other murders" Jane pointed out.

"OK, so if that's the case, what motive would our perp have for attacking the girl last night?"

Jane shook his head, not knowing the answer either. But he could guess.

"Not sure. Boredom? Thrill seeking since he got away with it three times already? The guy could be feeling invincible Cho."

"That's all we need... a killer with the means to slip in and out of Markdale, in disguise, kill people for unknown reasons...it opens up a whole new can of worms" Cho said with worry. Lynn Mathews had no connection to medicine or pharmaceuticals or mental hospitals. She was the anomaly. Both men fell silent, pondering this new, confusing wrinkle in the investigation.

"What did the guy look like, could the woman give Markdale PD a good description?"

"Markdale had a sketch artist make a drawing of our perp, with the beard and moustache, which is most likely fake too. They sent a copy over to me this morning" Cho said, guessing where this was going.

"Did you ask Wylie to take the…." Jane began, before being cut off by Cho.

"Yes I did and he will be done soon. We will make composite pictures of the guy without facial hair, with long hair, short hair, bald, glasses, whatever we can come up with to show us what he might really look like."

"You took the words right out of my mouth" Jane grinned, glad to see Cho thinking ahead.

"Hello, earth to Jane. How long have we worked together?" Cho laughed before turning to go.

Cho walked back to his office and Jane strolled over to Teresa, who was behind her computer typing a report of their trip to the psychiatric home. Jane waited on the sofa, running various scenarios through his mind while he waited for his wife to complete her work so that they could go and visit Mrs. Palley together.

A theatre full of actors and crew...all of whom would have access to disguises and costumes; a psychiatric home where no one had worked for longer than a year; a pharmacist who had a dispute with someone serious enough that it probably led to his death…a student nurse who had never harmed a soul and was only home to visit...a dedicated nurse who had not been in Markdale long enough to make enemies… and now a college student fearing for her life.

How was any of this related? What was the common thread tying all of these people to the heinous crimes committed in Markdale Texas? As quickly as Jane came up with a theory, another piece of information contravened it. He needed something more solid to work with, a clue or hard piece of evidence, an outright lie. Actors and doctors and nurses and a psychopath with a flair for the dramatic. There had to be something out there to point the FBI in the right direction.

Something.

"Done!" Teresa said with a flourish, shutting down her computer as she swivelled around in her chair. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as ever" Jane smiled, standing up to join his wife as she shouldered her purse and grabbed her jacket. When they walked past Wylie's desk on their way to the elevator, Cho was approaching the blond young man. As the elevator doors slid shut, Jane noticed Wylie leap up smiling as he reached for his coat. Cho was sending him out into the field to investigate the theatre company.

Jane grinned slightly. 'Way to go Wylie!'

(Palley Residence, Markdale, Texas)

Jane and Lisbon waited outside the large house while a dog barked furiously inside, disturbed by the doorbell. A woman shouted at the dog to be quiet and soon answered the door.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked, not recognizing this attractive couple. They better not be selling Bibles or vacuum cleaners…

The young dog, a puppy of about 6 months old, bounded past the woman and threw herself into Lisbon's surprised body. Smiling gamely, Teresa tried to push the salivating coonhound off her chest to no avail. Standing on her hind legs, the tall pup could easily put her front paws on Lisbon's shoulders.

"Sadie! Bad girl! Get down! Down!" shouted Mrs. Palley in annoyance. Yanking on the dog's collar, she hauled Sadie off Lisbon and kept a tight hold on her now.

"I'm so sorry! She's still a handful. Are you alright Miss?"

Brushing herself off, Teresa composed herself while Jane mugged with silly faces at the eager puppy and waggled his fingers at her. Still a kid at heart…

"I'm fine...no harm done" Lisbon assured Mrs. Palley. Time to start again.

"Mrs. Palley, I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane, I called this morning from the FBI office. This is Patrick Jane, our Consultant."

"Mrs. Palley" smiled Jane, extending his hand while admiring the ecstatic pup.

"Oh yes...you're from the FBI. Sorry, I got busy and forgot all about you...come in, come in! Forgive Sadie, she's so happy to meet new people. I got her to keep me company, now that my husband is gone" the woman said by way of apology and explanation.

The woman, who was only in her mid-50's, ushered them inside, keeping a tight grip on the joyous dog desperate to sniff and examine these new humans. Mrs. Palley led them past the living room and offered them chairs at her kitchen table. Sadie sat wiggling between Lisbon and Jane, panting and grinning at each in turn, eager to see who would crack and scratch her head first.

"Coffee?" Mrs. Palley asked nervously.

"No thank you."

"Ok..." Mrs. Palley sat down and fidgeted with her placemat, not sure what these people wanted from her.

"I've been interviewed by the police quite a few times you know" she said, sure there was nothing more to be gleaned from her previous testimony. "Quite recently, in fact. They tell me that my Bill was also poisoned…" she said in horror. As if being bludgeoned with a bat wasn't enough.

"Yes, our pathologist discovered traces of a drug in his system." Lisbon said, fearing Mrs. Palley would fall apart before she could attempt to remember long forgotten information.

Jane took over the conversation.

"It seems you were very helpful to the police so far" Jane said, trying to calm Mrs. Palley's nerves as he stroked Sadie on the chin. Sadie was now loyal to this new man.

"Thank you. But it didn't help to find the person who killed my Bill" Mrs. Palley said sadly.

Lisbon smiled and eased back into the conversation.

"Mrs. Palley, what do you remember about the last few days before your husband was killed? Was there anything that stands out as being unusual? Was he upset or angry?"

Mrs. Palley got a panicked look on her face, unsure of her own memories now that she knew she had early onset dementia.

"Oh I don't trust my memory, not anymore. I used to be the best at remembering every little thing, even better than Bill, and he was the smartest man I ever knew, but now, I can't even tell you what I ate for breakfast yesterday" she said with certitude.

"I can almost guarantee you remember more than you think" Jane said kindly. "And really, who cares what you ate yesterday?" he smiled, patting her dog, who now had her large head resting on his lap.

Mrs. Palley had to smile at that. Who did care about what she ate for breakfast?

"Tell me about Bill. What was he like?" Jane prodded her. Mrs. Palley began to relax.

"Oh he was such a nice guy. We met at the local pool one summer. He had just finished college and I was part way through my studies. He was older than me but I thought that made him so much more interesting. He was tall and handsome and had the kindest eyes. He lit up the room when he walked in" she beamed, seeing him again as a young man. As she remembered, years seemed to fade from her face.

"When did he go into business here in town?" Lisbon asked.

"Soon after he got his degree. The local pharmacy was going to close as old Ted Betler was wanting to retire. Bill had saved up his money and took a chance on buying the business. We were poor as mice but Bill believed he could make a go of it. He was very successful."

"So he ran the pharmacy for a long time. He must have known everyone in town" Jane prompted her. "Did he have contracts with industries or hospitals in and around Markdale?"

Mrs. Palley nodded her head, the names of the businesses springing to mind. She listed several large companies, who had their own nurses on staff and bought some over the counter meds and supplies from the pharmacy. She also listed the local small hospital, the colleges and the psychiatric home.

"It seems your memory is pretty sharp Mrs. Palley, that's quite a list" Jane complimented her. He knew her long term memory would be far better than her short term memory, such was the path of Alzheimer's disease.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you to say. Sometimes I lose faith in myself now that Bill is gone and isn't here to help me remember things" the woman admitted.

"So far so good" Jane continued. "Was he upset about anything that last week? Did he mention if anyone was giving him problems with their pharmacy orders or with paying their bills? Anything work related?"

Mrs. Palley listened to the question but wasn't sure how to answer. Her first impulse was to say yes, yes something was wrong. But she didn't trust her memory. Maybe it was wishful thinking.

"I...I'm not sure...it was a terrible time for me."

"Just relax and trust yourself. Remember, you know more than you think you do" Jane reiterated. "May I?" he said, taking the woman's hand in his. "I couldn't help but notice this lovely ring. Did Mr. Palley give it to you?" he asked, twisting her finger around so the sparkling stones caught the light.

"Yes, he did, on our fifth wedding anniversary. That was the soonest he could afford to buy me an engagement ring."

"He had wonderful taste" Jane continued, moving her hand around slightly, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb while staring at her ring. Mrs. Palley never took her eyes off the gleaming stones, remembering Bill when he presented it to her...remembering Bill when he was so happy...remembering Bill when he got angry…

"So what upset Bill just before he was killed" Jane asked softly.

"Jane!" Lisbon whispered quietly. He was hypnotising the woman! She was sure of it!

"Shhh!"

"Tell me...who had him so upset that he told you about it?"

Fingers rubbing the small hand...

"His drug orders changed...said Bill overcharged him...it wasn't the right amount...said we had to prove he ordered that stuff...so stupid...supposed to be a professional" Mrs. Palley said softly, still gazing at her ring, seeing her husband storm around the kitchen in a huff, indignant that one of his oldest customers had pulled this stunt on him.

"Who wouldn't pay his invoices? How had his orders changed? Tell me his name" Jane pushed her.

Mrs. Palley still gazed at her ring, seeing her husband's love evident on her finger, and the name just bubbled up like fizz in a soda.

"David. David was being so difficult that day. It upset Bill so much" the woman said sadly, disappointment evident in her voice even now. Sadie licked her knee in commiseration.

"Mrs. Palley...David got Bill angry. What is David's last name?" asked Lisbon, seeing a new piece of the investigation fall into place. There were a lot of David's in the world.

"Dr. David Litchfield" said Mrs. Palley, breaking her eyes away from her ring. A look of surprise illuminated her face. Jane patted her hand and the woman looked at them with renewed clarity.

"I remember now! Bill was mad at David Litchfield over at the Home. After all the years we had done business with him and his father before him, he treated us so badly over a few invoices! Accused us of lying!"

"What did your husband do to fix this situation with Dr. Litchfield?" Jane asked, satisfied that something of value had been learned.

"I don't really know. They spoke on the phone a few times, at first in anger, but the last time it all seemed to be ironed out. I think the Doctor agreed to pay what he owed to maintain a good relationship with our pharmacy. And then a few days later, Bill died. And that was that" the woman said sadly.

"Did Dr. Litchfield ever come into the pharmacy in person to do business, or did he send someone else on his staff?" Teresa asked.

"Oh the Doctor never came in much, hardly ever. The orders were all sent in over the phone. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering how well your husband actually knew the Doctor" Teresa explained.

"Old Dr. Litchfield came in all the time, brought his son David with him when he was just a kid, and we saw a lot of David while he was in Med school every time he came home to visit. But in the last year, we hardly ever saw him in person."

"That's what happens when you get busy" Jane suggested.

"Yes, I guess so…" Mrs. Palley nodded. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help Agents."

"On the contrary, you've been very helpful. And I think we've taken up enough of your time" Jane announced, trying to stand. The large puppy had other ideas and lay not only her head but her front paws on Janes thighs.

"Sadie! Leave that man alone" Mrs. Palley admonished the dog, pulling her away by her collar.

"It's no bother, really. I love dogs!" Jane laughed, and in truth, if he didn't have to leave he would have been content to pet the dog all morning. Jane pushed the paws off his legs and tried to stand up, but Sadie misinterpreted the movement and thought this nice human was playing. She bounded up on her hind legs and reached out with her paws to hug Jane into staying.

"Owww!" Jane hissed in spite of himself, quickly putting his hand to his mouth. A large deep scratch was embedded in the soft fleshy skin stretched in the "Y" between his thumb and his index finger.

"Oh I'm so sorry! Sadie, into your crate!" bellowed Mrs. Palley, sure this agent would charge her with harbouring a dangerous animal instead of an overeager puppy. Sadie retreated with a drooping head to her corner and slithered inside her crate, in the proverbial dog house now.

"Are you alright Agent Jane?" asked Mrs. Palley, grabbing a damp paper towel to place over his cut.

Jane wiped the remaining blood off his hand and inspected the wound.

"It's a scratch that will heal in 3 or 4 days. Nothing to worry about. Sadie is still a baby and I hold no hard feelings against her...or you" he smiled, knowing full well he had encouraged the dog when he should have ignored her. But Sadie had been awfully hard to resist. As a boy he had never been allowed to have a puppy. His father resented spending money to feed and take care of anything or anyone except himself.

Teresa knew it was time to go.

"Thank you Mrs. Palley. We'll keep in touch if we learn anything more" Lisbon said, standing up.

"OK...glad I could help" the older woman said, feeling the tiniest bit more assured of herself. Maybe she could remember more if she had faith in herself. She walked Jane and Lisbon to the front door while Sadie cautiously crept out of her cage to keep pace with Jane, finally leaning against his legs when he paused at the door.

"I think Sadie wants to adopt you" smiled Mrs. Palley. "She's a traitor!"

Jane ruffled Sadie's fur and tickled her under her chin. "Sorry girl...I'm already taken!" he laughed as he stepped outside into the sunshine.

"Goodbye" said Mrs. Palley as she pulled Sadie back inside and closed the door.

As they walked towards the car Lisbon had to smile. Her first instinct was to scold Jane for lulling Mrs. Palley into a light trance to help her remember more details about her husband's death.

"I know what you did back there" she said with a smile.

"What did I do?" Patrick asked in surprise.

"You put Mrs. Palley into a trance, to get her to remember. All that hand rubbing and soft talk...I'm onto your tricks Jane."

As they reached the car, Patrick turned to Teresa and held her hands between his.

"Actually, I didn't hypnotise her at all, no trance, no suggestion. She remembered those details all by herself."

"But her Alzheimer's disease?"

"Not full blown Alzheimer's, not yet at least. Early onset dementia. She still has the ability to remember some details if she just relaxes and gives herself a chance, and that's what I gave her. She needed the boost in confidence Teresa."

Leaning in to place a small kiss on Jane's cheek, Teresa gave him a warm smile.

"That was kind of you Patrick."

Patrick brushed off the compliment with a wave of his hand as he walked around the car. "She could use some good news." As Teresa fastened her seatbelt, Jane got back to business.

"So, the conversation goes back to David Litchfield" Jane said as he got comfortable in the car seat.

"Markdale's a small place Jane. And customers do have disputes with store owners from time to time" Lisbon said sensibly.

"Yep…"Jane said, and let it drop. He dabbed at his cut hand while wondering what Wylie and the other officers were discovering over at the theatre company. Maybe that's where they should really be focussing their attention.


	9. To Be Or Not To Be

Things are getting a bit juicier from now on. Thanks for hanging in so far. Upcoming chapters will be a little hard to take, sorry if it upsets you. I'll try to be sensitive. Thanks for all of the support too, dear readers!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 9

To Be Or Not To Be

(Markdale, Texas)

While Jane and Lisbon were visiting Mrs. Palley, Wylie and another young agent dropped in at the theatre company in Markdale. As they arrived, the local PD pulled up, sending in a detective and a uniformed officer, Officer Cruz. Introductions were made and Wylie wisely let the local police take lead, while he and his fellow Agent accompanied them on their inspection of the premises. It would be all too easy to piss off the local Uni's and take over the investigation, getting them nowhere, so the FBI Agents let the locals run the show, this time.

The building was very old, a leftover from the last century, when it had been the local courthouse. The large courtroom had been re-configured into a theatre space, with the spectator seats replaced with staggered stadium-type seats. The ante-rooms had been repurposed into dressing rooms and places for props. The gallery was turned into mezzanine seating, excellent for when the local choral society staged concerts. The entire basement had been turned into storage departments and an upscale coffee bistro to serve theatre goers drinks and snacks during intermission. It was a successful example of saving a crumbling old building who's previous glory seemed on the brink of extinction.

The overly effusive stage manager met them at the door and led them inside, describing the building and all of the activities the building was used for. The community had a thriving amateur theatre company that put on plays seasonally, to above average support from the residents of Markdale. The theatre space could also be rented out for other events in the community, opening up the back rooms and costume areas to untold numbers of people outside of the usual actors and support teams. In short, it was a logistical nightmare. Literally hundreds of people on a rotating basis had access to the costumes, props, wigs and fake beards.

Where to begin? After spending more than an hour speaking to everyone working that day, Wylie and the other law enforcement officers ended up in the props/costume department.

Wylie stood in the costume shop, admiring the beautiful clothing and props, imagining the fun of dressing up and being someone else, at least for a few hours a week. A wall of styrofoam heads held wigs of every colour, and style, from every era. Next to it a glass fronted cupboard showed rows of fake moustaches and beards. Wylie gazed at them and noticed how tawdry they looked up close. From the audience's perspective, they would look real enough, but here, inches away from them, Wylie could see they were not nearly as convincing as the real thing. He produced the torn beard fragment, in an evidence bag and showed it to the costume manager.

"Could this beard be something you would use here on a regular basis?" Wylie asked while the Markdale PD officers spoke with the stage manager.

The woman examined the beard fragment through the plastic and sighed in envy.

"I only wish our budget allowed us to use beards as good as this one. This is real human hair, not the best quality by far, but certainly a step up from what we use. Wherever this came from, I'd be ticked off that I lost it" she added.

"As you can see, ours are all made of synthetic materials, to make cleaning them easier. When they get worn out, we can replace them for much less cost than something like this" she said, pointing to the bag.

"So in your opinion, this could not have come from this theatre?" Wylie asked, needing confirmation.

"Not unless someone here has a hidden stash of props, so no...this isn't one of ours" the costume manager assured Wylie. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Wylie nodded and indicated to his partner that it was time to get back to the office in Austin. They'd been here for the best part of the morning and absolutely nothing new had been revealed. As far as this piece of evidence was concerned, this location was a dead end.

(Burton, Texas)

Lynn Michaels lay in the sun in a corner of her Aunt's backyard, out of the fall breeze, considering her options. She had escaped her attacker with only the clothes on her back, then was picked up by her good hearted Aunt well past midnight at the police station. Fear was currently keeping her away from her student apartment in Markdale, but if she was going to be away for much longer, she would need some of her belongings here in Burton. Unless she got up the nerve to go back to Markdale and walk its streets, she would need help to get more of her belongings and school books. As soon as her attacker was apprehended, she could resume her former life as a college student. Until then, she was content to hide out for a bit longer. Mind made up, she reached for her Aunt's cell phone and called her roommate.

"Megs, hi! It's me, Lynn."

"Oh my God Lynn, I heard what happened to you the other night! Are you alright kid?"

"Yeah, I got away. The cops are looking for the mutant. I got a good look at him and they made a sketch, so I'm hoping they find him soon."

"Yeah, me too. So, like, when are you coming home and going back to school?"

Lynn knew that was out of the question. Until that creep was behind bars, she planned to stay invisible out here. She could catch up with school later, with some help.

"Not yet, not now anyway...say, Megs, if I give you a list, could you drive a few of my things over here and meet me at my Aunt's house? I need clothes, makeup, my toiletries, you know…"

"No problem! Just tell me what you want and I'll bring it over after class today."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. OK, here's what I need…"

The two girls worked out a list and when she had hung up the phone, Lynn felt much better about her temporary exile at her Aunt's house. Thank goodness for great roommates!

(Markdale, Texas)

Jane thrummed his index finger against his knee as they drove through Markdale, considering what to do next. Until the beard and wig hairs had been analysed for any latent DNA, that evidence didn't point to anyone they could pursue right now, assuming their perp's DNA was in a database, that is. If this killer had never been arrested and given a DNA sample, the FBI would be searching for a needle in a haystack. Jane wasn't getting any strong indication that he had crossed paths with the killer yet, but if he had, he had failed to pick up any tells.

"Where to now Patrick?" Teresa asked, seeing his reflection in the side window.

"Don't know. We can wait for more evidence to come in or we could shake up a few witnesses and see what happens."

"And piss everyone off. Good plan" laughed Lisbon.

"It's been working for me for years" grinned Jane. "I want to go back and poke around at Litchfield. Not counting the guard dog at the reception desk, the only person we met was Dr. Litchfield himself. For all we know he could have Quasimodo working for him."

"And you think he's going to grant you access?"

"Ahhh...yes…"Jane said, waggling his FBI badge at Lisbon. "This is an investigation. I can interview whomever I feel may give us some answers, either at the Home, or in our interrogation room back at the bullpen. Their choice" he said with a smile. "Come to think of it, we need to speak to the staff at the pharmacy as well. A staff member could be our perp if he had a grudge against Bill Palley. Someone trained in pharmaceuticals could easily get his or her hands on the cyanide and know how to use it."

"Didn't the Markdale PD speak to all of the employees at the pharmacy 11 months ago Jane?"

"Yes..they did. But that was before two more people were found dead and mounted like trophies around Markdale and before they knew cyanide was also used before Palley got his head bashed in. I think we need to call those people in for further questioning."

"I'll speak to Cho and see how soon we can make that happen" Lisbon agreed before her cell phone started to ring.

"Jane, can you get that for me?" she asked since she was driving.

Jane leaned over and nimbly frisked his wife's body a bit too intimately considering he knew damned well where her phone was located.

"Talk about taking advantage of a situation" she smirked as he opened her phone with a sly grin.

"It's the preschool" Jane said, suddenly looking serious.

"I hope Anika's OK" Teresa whispered as Jane said 'hello'.

"Yes? When? Poor kid. But she's OK otherwise?" he said into the cell phone. "Ok, we can do that" he agreed.

"What?" whispered Teresa, worried about her little girl.

"Yes, we will. Thank you for letting me know" Jane finished, letting the call drop.

"What's wrong with KiKi?" asked Lisbon, touching the gas to accelerate.

"Kiki was feeling a bit sick an hour ago but said she was OK, didn't want to stop playing" Jane began.

"But?"

"But now that she ate her lunch, she's throwing up and crying for her Mummy" he finished. "She has a fever, nothing much, but the school thinks she'd be more comfortable in her own bed instead of on the cot in the nurse's room."

Lisbon chewed her lower lip, worried for her daughter but sure this was just a minor bug showing up. Those classrooms were petri dishes of bacteria.

"Let's go get her" Jane suggested.

"It's OK, I can go. You went last time she was sick, remember? No use both of us missing the rest of the day" Lisbon suggested.

"Whatever we can find out from the pharmacy staff or the nurses and doctors at the Home can wait one more day. Anika will want both of us Teresa, so I can run a bath for her as soon as we get home, then I'll cook us some supper while you fuss over her. Sound good?"

Jane was right, Teresa would enjoy coddling Anika, watching her in the bath while Daddy flitted in and out of the room. Two parents were always better than one just in case KiKi started to throw up again.

"Alright. Thanks Patrick. Maybe the worst is over now. Hopefully she can eat a bit by suppertime. We can decide if she goes back to school tomorrow morning" Teresa decided. I'm sure she's just got a little bug" she said out loud, more to reassure herself than Jane.

They drove as quickly as they could back to the FBI office to pick up their vehicle and leave the company SUV behind. Patrick wrinkled his forehead in worry for his little girl. Any time Anika felt pain or was ill, he wanted to scoop her up and make it all go away. He thought about Anika and the beautiful nature of children in general. He couldn't wait to hold her in his arms tonight.

(FBI Austin - Cho's Office)

Cho was behind his desk, finishing up a meeting with three new agents when his phone rang. Seeing it was Jane on the line, Cho dismissed the agents to gain some privacy.

"Jane? What's up?"

"Hi Cho. We spoke to Mrs. Palley and she remembered some details not mentioned before. She said her husband had issues with Dr. David Litchfield. Apparently it was ironed out but they were on bad terms right before Palley was killed."

"OK, anything else?"

"KiKi is sick. We're going over to the preschool now to pick her up and bring her home."

"Nothing serious I hope" Cho asked. He was Anika's godfather and official best buddy. He loved that little girl dearly.

"I'm sure it's just a bug, but we're going home early" Jane informed him.

"No problem Jane, we can manage just fine. We're looking into the banking records of Litchfield, Carrie Klein and Susannah Moore. See if anything looks wonky. You never know, someone might have been under financial pressure, blackmailed, something…" Cho explained.

"Good idea. Did Wylie get anywhere with the theatre company?"

"No, the beard is too good to be one of theirs. The costume manager said the beard our perp was wearing was made of human hair. Theirs are synthetic. Another dead end."

"Huh…" Jane muttered. He had really hoped all of their focus could be on that theatre company, considering how theatrically the bodies had been displayed, but now, the playing field was wide open again.

"Back to the beginning I guess. See you in the morning Cho."

"Bye Jane."

"Oh and Cho, can you send me the composite pictures of the man who assaulted the student in Markdale when Wylie is done making them?"

"Sure. Bye Jane."

"Thanks Cho."

Jane sat back and gazed out of his side window, but reached out and grasped Teresa's free hand, holding it while she drove.

"She doesn't get sick very often, does she" Teresa mused out loud.

"No. She's a strong healthy girl. But, we knew when we put her in preschool she'd pick up every bug and cold from the other kids" Jane assured his wife. "I hear getting colds when you're little makes you more resistant when you get older" he smiled.

"Now you're just making that up!" Teresa laughed, shaking her head.

"Am I? I guess we'll find out, eventually" Jane said with a much smaller smile. This child would grow up. He'd make sure of that.


	10. The Beginning of the End

The second chapter published in one day - whoo hoo! I got my mojo working! This is a long chapter, but things are starting to happen, so enjoy. See you next week.

 **Chapter Warning:** For those personally sensitive to the issue, there will be violence against a woman in this chapter, but it will not be graphic. I don't need to describe every detail for you to know what is happening. Let's leave it there. Please be safe.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 10

The Beginning of the End

(15 Years Earlier)

"This is bullshit and you know it!" his best friend and cousin screamed at him, both young men facing off in their dorm room on the point of coming to blows.

"What did you expect? You cheat on every exam, fudge your reports, get other students to take your classes while you sleep off a bender...I could go on" the handsome young med student said to his buddy. "And that's not even including the assault charges most of the women at school want to bring against you. If those girls knew you were a serial abuser you'd have been out on your ass 5 years ago."

"It would be their word against mine, and no one would believe them. With my family name, who would they rather believe? I could just say they wanted me cut from the program to make way for themselves" the offended man said, unimpressed that his friend wasn't sticking up for him anymore.

"I guess it doesn't matter now does it? You're out anyway. Good work cousin...three months to go and you would have graduated with your medical degree, but now you're expelled. And that's all on you!" he shouted, so disappointed in his life-long buddy.

The young man rounded on his friend and raised at finger in his face, an accusation on his lips.

"It was you, wasn't it? Huh? You went to the Dean of Medicine and accused me of cheating on those exams. This is on you!" the outraged young man screamed at his roommate. "Convince me I'm wrong you asshole!"

"Naw naw ...this isn't my doing. You fucked up one time too many. You fooled our professors and the Dean and just about everybody for years, but guess what? You got careless and somebody hung you out to dry. Half of our class hates you for your cheating. But you blame me anyway 'cause that's the easy way out. Blame everybody else for your screw ups. Thanks for the loyalty after all these years! Just don't say I didn't warn you" he finished, turning his back on his doppelganger.

"So that's it? Kiss my ass and fuck off? Is that what I get?"

The young man turned to face his friend one last time. "When I get back after class, I want you gone, you and all your shit. So yeah, fuck off." He strode over to the door and slammed it behind him. It was too painful to look at his cousin. They both had such big dreams, such high hopes of working in medicine together, maybe overseas, maybe setting up a practice together. But that idiot couldn't keep his pecker in his pants and his brain on his studies.

Served him right. The school had to expel him. Whatever happened to him now was of no concern to anyone.

(Jane Household - early afternoon)

Kiki melted into her mother's arms as Patrick ran a bath for her, concerned by her pale complexion but highly flushed cheeks. Teresa ran a hand over Anika's forehead for the hundredth time since they picked her up at school.

"She's still warm Patrick" Teresa said with worry. Jane straightened up and got the thermometer and held it under the little girl's armpit.

Checking it after a couple of minutes, he relaxed. It was just a bit elevated.

"She'll be fine, she's just a bit warm...don't worry Teresa. This lukewarm bath will help bring her temp down. Just don't let KiKi stay in too long, we don't want her to get a chill."

Teresa, being a first time mother, was grateful for Jane's previous experience with Charlotte. While he could panic with the best of them when it came to his child, in this case, he knew that KiKi was going to be OK. She just needed time.

By the time the bath was done, and a bit of supper was eased gently into the toddler, she was almost asking to go to bed. By 7 p.m. Patrick and Teresa finished their nightly routine with Anika and kissed her goodnight.

"What about school tomorrow?" Jane asked.

"We'll see. She might do well to stay home one more day to get over whatever this was completely" Teresa suggested.

"Yup, no need to throw KiKi back into the Bacteria Festival any sooner than necessary" Jane grinned, happy to know Teresa and Kiki might be able to spend the whole day together tomorrow.

As for this evening, they tidied up and snuggled down together on the sofa to watch old movies until they both started to nod off. By 10, they too were fast asleep. Jane's phone lay ignored on his kitchen table, the composite pictures of the man who assaulted Lynn Michaels sitting in a file, waiting for Jane to open it in the morning.

(Markdale, Texas - 5 p.m.)

Meg ran out to her car with her arms full. Lynn had requested enough clothes to outfit herself for a two week vacation, plus all her makeup, ipad, laptop and assorted toiletries. It took 3 trips, but finally everything was loaded into the back seat and Meg drove towards the destination Lynn had provided. With luck and traffic on her side, Meg figured she might even be home in time to watch her favourite TV show at 7 p.m.

As the small blue car pulled out of the student apartment parking lot, another car, black and nondescript, eased out of its parking spot nearby. While Meg drove out of Markdale towards Lynn's Aunt's house, the black car kept pace, two or three car lengths behind, never losing sight of the little blue car. Meg was paying no attention to what the traffic that far behind her was doing, being preoccupied with singing along to the radio and pounding the steering wheel with her palm as she kept the beat. In no time, it seemed, she found the side street and the house that Lynn had described so accurately.

Lynn was waiting at the living room window and smiled happily when the friendly blue car pulled up at the curb. Running out to the street to help Meg bring in bag after bag of belongings, the two girls chatted about the attack and how brave Lynn had been to escape and find the police. Once the car was unloaded, Meg filled up her travel mug with coffee that Lynn had prepared, grabbed a cookie and hugged her friend tightly.

"I miss you and hope you come back to school soon. Much as I like having the dorm room to myself, it's just not the same without you Lynn!" Meg admitted as she hugged her friend goodbye.

"Soon...if the police find that bastard, then I'll come back. Just keep sending me my homework OK Meg?"

"Sure thing. Call me tomorrow" Meg shouted over her shoulder as she jogged back to her car. Lynn turned towards the house after she waved her friend goodbye. She grabbed her belongings and walked to her bedroom in the back of the house to put everything away. She had an hour to enjoy the house before her Aunt came home for the evening. Maybe she'd take a bath! A few minutes later, the radio was playing loudly while Lynn sorted through her belongings, happy to have her own stuff again.

She never heard the front door open silently as a man stealthily entered the tidy house. The carpet hid the sound of his footsteps as he eased through the living room and hallway. The man stopped outside Lynn's bedroom door, listening, planning, grinning. A gloved hand slid over the door knob and turned it slowly. He took a step into the small room to find Lynn with her back to the door, bent over, humming to herself as she folded her sweaters. A deep smile creased his face as he saw his reflection in the mirror over the bed. This was going to be fun. He stepped closer and leaned over her, grabbing Lynn by the back of her neck.

"Hello Lynn" he purred close to her ear.

Before she could scream, a heavy hand clamped over her mouth and silenced the panicked young woman.

He took his time with her. The bitch had escaped the first time he tried to take her and for that, she needed to be taught a lesson. No one bested him. No one. He intended to enjoy every moment with Lynn, every curve of her perfect body. Her panic encouraged him, excited him, made this moment special. Good thing Auntie wasn't home, he'd have to kill her too.

Thirty minutes later, Lynn's raped and beaten body was dragged to the back door and carried around to the garage, where the black car stood with the trunk open. The man lifted the slight body up and dumped it into the trunk, then pulled out, merging with suppertime traffic.

No one saw anything.

(Jane Household - 8 a.m.)

Teresa stood in the kitchen, savouring a cup of coffee while Patrick made breakfast for himself.

"Rough night all around" he said blearily, as both of them had taken turns sitting with their feverish little girl.

"Good thing she didn't throw up again, but she's tired this morning" Teresa said, happy Anika was sleeping and her temperature was back to normal.

"I'm going to keep her home today. We're both exhausted" she added, rubbing the dark circles under her eyes.

"Sorry I slept through some of it. I was awake as long as I could manage, then…" Jane apologized, knowing Teresa had stayed up longer, not wanting to wake him once he finally fell asleep.

"It's fine. No use both of us losing sleep. I'll nap today as soon as KiKi goes down for a sleep" Teresa said, happy to have a day off mid-week with her little girl.

"I'll call in a couple of hours, see how you're both doing. Maybe I can bring home something nice as a treat now that Anika can eat again" Jane suggested.

"Good idea, she'll like that."

Patrick quickly ate his breakfast and in another 20 minutes, was out of the door, on his way to pursue a hunch. Jane felt sure he'd missed something important at the Litchfield Home and there was only one way to find out what that was.

Teresa stretched out on the sofa, waiting for KiKi to descend the staircase in search of toys and cereal.

(FBI- Austin Texas - 8:30 a.m.)

Wylie slouched off his shoulder bag and dropped into his chair, almost spilling his morning coffee in his weariness. He had worked late the previous night, collating any information that might shed some light on the mystery of the three murdered people. Once his computer program had spit out every type of variation on the bearded man's appearance, Wylie had sent the composite pictures of Lynn Michaels' attacker to Jane, Lisbon, several other agents and the whole of the investigative team at the Markdale Police Department. Hopefully someone would recognize one of the possible incarnations of the perp and set Wylie's phone ringing soon.

The black and white photo that Jane had found in Susannah Moore's bedroom had been copied, blown up and analyzed for any tiny details that could possibly give the FBI some information as to the identity of both boys, where the photo had been taken and by whom. So far Wylie hadn't come up with anything yet. He was also researching Dr. David Litchfield's entire family, all of whom were now dead, except for David. His family was very well respected in and around Markdale, and it seemed an impossibility that David himself could be a Jekyll and Hyde character hiding in plain sight. If she had come in today Wylie was hoping that Lisbon would help him research the family, but Cho had messaged him that Lisbon was off today with KiKi. Sighing, Wylie switched on his laptop and hunkered down to a long day of screen time.

Across town Jane was on his way to visit the Psychiatric Home once again. His visit with the good Doctor had been unrewarding the first time. Perhaps he needed to do some snooping around without Lisbon stopping him and without the Doctor trailing his every move. With a bit of luck, maybe he'd get in, poke around and get out before anyone was the wiser. Cho had mentioned that he'd asked Dr. Litchfield himself to come to the FBI office to be interviewed, so that gave Jane a window of time to explore unimpeded. He opened his phone and saw the pdf that Wylie had forwarded to him. He didn't have time to stop and scroll through the many faces Wylie had manufactured. He'd do it after he left the Home.

(FBI - Austin)

Cho scanned the list on his desk of all of the staff currently working at the Litchfield Psychiatric Home. They had been notified that they were required to come in for questioning. The connection that each victim had to the Psychiatric Home was now undeniable, but who had a grudge so big and a secret so dangerous that murder was the only solution? A trip to the FBI offices might unnerve a staffer enough to spill some tiny piece of information that up until now, had been overlooked, or dismissed as unimportant. Perhaps someone would confess under pressure. Cho could only hope for the latter. A junior doctor and part-time nurse were due to show up at 10:30 a.m., with Dr. Litchfield himself the first to arrive at 9:15 , so Cho finished up some other case files while he waited for their arrival. Perhaps Cho would find out why everyone at the Home had been so recently hired.

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home - 9 a.m.)

Jane pulled up and parked his car outside the main building and knew if he played his cards just right, he'd get full access to the private areas he needed to see without a chaperone nipping at his heels. First, to set the plan in motion. He walked down the hallway towards the Reception Room and discovered that Mrs. Rogers was not at her desk, instead, a young woman sat in the older woman's chair.

Jane strode into the Reception Room whistling, a cheery smile on his face as he twirled his car keys around and around on his finger.

"Morning!" he beamed at the young woman.

"Good morning, Mr…." the woman began before Jane cut her off.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not too late!" Jane said with a big smile. "I'd hate to keep David waiting."

Kim, the temporary Receptionist, gazed up at this gorgeous man, who obviously knew Dr. Litchfield and had an appointment. She thought no one was scheduled to come in so early in the morning, since that bitch Receptionist Mrs. Rogers had nothing written on the appointment calendar on the computer. The man waited patiently for an answer, checking his watch. His mane of blond hair and his laser-like focus on her was most disconcerting. She had to say something to please him. Checking the schedule again, she saw nothing but blank lines for the next two hours.

"I'm sorry...but I can't find your appointment on the computer...and your name is?" the young woman stammered, overwhelmed by this golden man's closeness. Jane leaned over the woman to intimidate her just a bit more, letting his cologne work its magic and turned her screen around, as if to point out his name to her.

"Well I'll be damned, that sly bugger!" Jane said in shock, then appeared to be ashamed of his crude language.

"Oh, sorry, how rude of me! That's typical of David. We spoke on the phone just the other day and I told him he'd forget to put my name down on the list, I told him! And he did!"

The girl glanced at the blank space on her calendar again and then up into the beaming face of this friendly man.

"How can I help you then?" she asked, forgetting yet again to get his name.

"Well this is none of your doing, not your fault at all. David and I were in school together and he invited me over today to discuss an investment in the Home. But I only have two hours then I've got to catch a flight to Denver" Jane blathered on, putting pressure on the girl to do something to mitigate his disappointment.

Before she could come up with a solution, Jane did.

"I can wait in his office, if that's alright. I know where it is, been there many times. Would that work for you Miss?" He wanted to gain access to the office without being followed by anyone at the Home.

Now the girl had to make a decision. The wrong one could cost the Home a lot of investment dollars, something that her boss would be angry about should he discover she had turned his friend away when he was feeling generous. But Dr. Litchfield was out at the moment. What to do… She was pretty sure the Doctor would show up soon.

"I guess you could wait in the Doctor's office. But don't go anywhere else, it could get you into trouble" she added, standing up from her desk.

"Yes, thank you, I wouldn't. I know about the Secure Unit and the poor folks back there. Not anyplace I want to be. I can let myself into David's office. Does he still have that old leather furniture his father left him?" Jane smiled, further indicating he knew the doctor well.

The girl laughed at this comment. The furniture was heavy and out of date, even though it was so so comfortable. Obviously this man knew Dr. Litchfield's office well.

"Yes, it's still there. Not my taste but don't let the doctor know" she said with a wink.

"It's our secret" Jane winked back as he let himself out and headed to the Doctor's office. The girl watched him go and smiled at him as he closed the door to the office behind him. Then she went back to work at the desk until the real Receptionist came in.

Jane dropped his smile as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. He quickly moved around the room, examining everything. He could wander out and about later. This was his chance to snoop unattended.

The usual knick knacks filled the shelves, some dating back to the original Dr. Merle Litchfield, and books lined most shelves behind the large wooden desk. A layer of dust lay on the books, as if the good Doctor never opened them. Jane tried the desk drawers. Most of them opened and revealed nothing of any import. The large drawer in the middle of the desk was locked. Why lock a desk if there is nothing to hide? Jane ran his fingers all over the underside of the desk and found nothing, no key. Turning to the wall unit behind the desk, he checked every container and vase, still no key. Finally he turned back to the desk and took a slim letter opener from a side drawer, an antique device judging from its ornate handle, and slid it under the thin opening between the desktop and the middle drawer itself. A click a moment later told him he had tripped the switch and unlocked the drawer.

Jane stopped for a moment to listen for footsteps. He still had time on his side with David Litchfield busy at the Austin FBI office, thanks to Cho. The drawer revealed the usual paper clips, staples, notepads, some patient files and a ledger. Jane pulled the ledger out and quickly examined it, looking for anything that might indicate fraud or some other shady financial shenanigans going on at the Home. Forensic accounting was not Jane's forte, and the ledger looked legit, but he wished he could take it with him so that experts at the FBI could examine it further. Sighing at the chance to take the ledger but not daring to, he slid it back into the drawer and felt around for anything else that might tell him more about Dr. Litchfield. A hard corner stubbed Jane's finger. Nudging it forward, a small photo album revealed itself. Jane pulled it out and stood by the window to see it clearly. It was a family album, filled with black and white, then coloured photos of a family smiling into the camera at birthday parties, Christmas mornings, summer vacations, camp days. Nothing about it was out of the ordinary. A quick glance on the wall of portrait photos showed Jane that the older man in the photo was Dr. Litchfield's father in his more intimate moments with his wife and children.

Children.

Jane looked at the two kids in the photos and realized that what he mistook for a young David and a friend, was really David and another boy, possibly his brother. They were similar in build and scrawny the way adolescents are before their hormones kick in and biceps sprout in thin arms. They looked so alike, they could have been twins. David was first and foremost in almost all of the photos, with the other child trying to muscle in on the shot, jostling for position in front of the lens. Typical brotherly teasing.

Turning the page, Jane was about to close the album when a photo caught his eye. Both boys were astride new bicycles, beaming with pride. The handlebars were decorated with ribbons, as if both kids got new bikes for the summer. Lucky kids to have a wealthy father. Remembering another photo, Jane reached into his vest pocket and pulled out the tiny cardboard square and unfolded it. The old black and white photo showed two boys, one in the foreground happily sitting on a bicycle while the other boy yelled in annoyance in the background.

Not friends fooling around. Brothers.

David Litchfield had a brother.

Jane had no idea why this felt odd, like it was an unnatural surprise, but no one had ever mentioned another Litchfield progeny. What did the other son do if he wasn't involved with the work his grandfather had begun so long ago?

Reaching for his phone, he quickly called Wylie to get him onboard with doing a bit of digging into Litchfield's family.

"Jane? What's up?"

"Jason, I need you to look into David Litchfield's family life."

"Already started. Anything special you want me to look for?"

"Yes, check out his siblings or close relatives. See if there is anything that raises red flags, run-ins with the law, trouble of any kind. I have a photo to send to you. Use it for background to see just who his family really is" Jane said in a hushed voice. "Sending now…" he ended, then he took a picture of the larger photo of the boys on new bikes in the family album. Could David and a brother be murderers, hiding out in a psychiatric facility where no one would think to look? Was one covering for the other? Jane knew he could be completely misreading this evidence, such as it was. It might be evidence of nothing but a nice family. He'd leave it up to Wylie to find dirt if there was dirt to be found.


	11. House of Secrets

for all of the support and positive comments, they mean a lot. Ok, on to chapter 11. Fasten your seatbelts!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 11

House of Secrets

Jane slid the photo album back into the middle drawer and felt around for something else that would give him new clues into the background of the Doctor. When he found nothing else, he closed, then locked the drawer again. Standing in the middle of the office, he gazed around to examine the perimeter of the room. The walls were panelled in mahogany, a lovely aged patina on them attesting to the length of time the room had remained untouched by modern decorators. Jane stood back and looked up and down the room, at the back wall, the floor, the panelling. Something caught his eye. A small detail revealed itself as he stared at the floor. The carpet was worn down ever so slightly close to the panelling on the window side of the room. It was partially obstructed by the heavy drapes on the window, but when you pulled the fabric aside, there was the pattern of a drag mark in the short pile of the carpet. What would make that drag mark? Jane stood looking at the panelled wall that ran at the end of the bookshelf on that side. Stepping up to the bookshelf, Jane ran his hands along the seams of the panelling, not sure what he was looking for. The woodworking was so well done, the panels seemed to be of a whole, instead of ingeniously joined together in large rectangular panels. Nothing here.

Jane turned to walk back towards the door, not wanting to be found in the office if Dr. Litchfield came back early. As he turned, he spied a small rosette of wood placed against the side of the bookcase near the windows. Cocking his head to the side, he looked down at the other end of the bookshelf to see if another rosette was placed in the same location at the other end. No. Only this end of the bookshelf had a carved rosette.

Smiling to himself, he reached up and pressed his index finger into the centre of the rosette, imaging what would happen next. At first, nothing happened and Jane thought he had watched one too many Indiana Jones movies. Then, as he started to walk away, a small hum caught his attention. Swinging around to face the wall, Jane watched as that section of the panelling opened up and revealed a small doorway leading into a dark alleyway.

"Eh voila!" Jane grinned as he peered inside the narrow space. So old Merle Litchfield had built secret hidden doors and alleyways into his manor house, no doubt to get around without having to go through public rooms. He could slip in and out of his office undisturbed.

Outside the facility, a small car pulled up and parked. The steel-haired Receptionist bustled out of her car and walked quickly towards the building. She didn't like to come in late, but an empty gas tank had demanded her attention today. Dr. Litchfield didn't mind if young Kim manned the desk once in a while, but he preferred Mrs. Rogers, her personality and attention to his rules suiting him exactly. Mrs. Rogers put down her purse and let Kim go back to her other duties.

"Anything happen while I was out?" Mrs. Rogers asked before Kim returned to work. "All quiet?"

"All quiet" said Kim, standing up to go, until she remembered her unexpected guest.

"Oh, except for Dr. Litchfield's friend. He had an appointment that the doctor forgot to put in the schedule."

Mrs. Rogers looked at the appointment screen, as if the name of the visitor would somehow magically appear now.

"Well, who was it?"

Kim stopped on her way out of the small room and looked foolish.

"I uh...didn't get his name, actually. But he and the Doctor are old friends, he knew his way around here and even knew what the Doctor's office looked like, so it's OK" she said by way of excusing herself of any wrongdoing.

Mrs. Rogers squinted at her young assistant in disappointment. The girl was a terrible Receptionist .

"May I go? They're expecting me in physiotherapy" Kim said, easing herself closer to the door and farther away from the Receptionist's wrath.

"Go. But next time, get the man's name for heaven's sake girl!" the older woman admonished her.

Kim hastened out of the room and dashed down the hallway and out of sight. With luck Mrs. Rogers would forget about the whole thing when she got busy.

Mrs. Rogers settled herself behind her desk and occupied herself reading emails and surfing the 'net to pass the time until some work crossed her desk. Dr. Litchfield didn't have to know she had time to spare.

Jane stepped into the dark space behind the office wall and felt around for a light switch. An old one was to his left, and as he flicked the light on, the panelling behind him quickly closed. Now he was in the wall, going who knew where. He had no other choice but to follow the short pathway to its end, to see where it led. Jane walked quietly, following a well worn tiled path and was surprised to see a narrow twisting stairway on his right hand side, going up to the second floor, very much like a maid's back stairway in Edwardian homes. He'd check that out on his way back.

He jogged to the end of the tiled path and was met with a solid wooden wall. Sure that this also opened, Jane felt the wall on both sides until he found another light switch. Flicking it on, a small doorway slid open again, allowing him to step out into a dark hospital hallway. Checking to see if this was a patient area, Jane realized there was no one around, his luck was holding. Jane tiptoed down the darkened hallway and peered around the corner. Ahead of him lay the green, brightly lit Secure Unit housing the rooms occupied by the most violent of the Home's patients. So this was how Dr. Litchfield, his father and his father before him could visit the most dangerous patients without going through the heavily locked door. While this wasn't the way out, Jane felt himself pulled towards the doors that had small wire-inlaid windows showing the patients housed within those stark rooms. Just being on this side of the locked Secure Unit made him queasy, but he needed to have answers to his questions. Who was locked in there? Did Dr. Litchfield have secrets in there too?

Jane quietly jogged towards the first door and peeked in the high mesh-encrusted window. The stark white room was empty. Not unexpected. Litchfield had said that they only had two of the four rooms occupied at the moment. Jane strode over to the second door on the left side of the hall. Glancing in quickly, Jane spied an old man stretched out on his bed, his hair a tattered mess and a loose hospital gown covering his thin frame. The man rhythmically pounded his hands in the air, then against the wall, screeching out obscenities as he conducted an orchestra that only he could see. With a compulsive need to be in control, the old man shouted out instructions and threats to his invisible musicians. The man was so pale and grey it looked like he had not been out in the sun for years. Jane turned to face the other side of the hall, keeping an eye on the locked doorway leading back towards the main hospital so as not be caught in here. The first room on that side was empty, so he ran over to the last room, curious to see who was housed there before he had to make his escape.

All of the stark white rooms looked remarkably like the room Jane had spent months in after Angela and Charlotte died. It was a room Jane had wanted to die in until Sophie Miller convinced him otherwise. Cold fingers of long repressed memories gripped Jane as he gazed inside this all too familiar space. It held a narrow bed, a chair bolted to the ground, a night table similarly bolted to the ground and holding nothing but a book. A slim, bent man sat on the chair and gazed off into space, his lips moving in a silent conversation with himself. His back was to the meshed glass window so Jane couldn't see his face and determine if he was old or young. He was obviously unkempt, his dark hair long and uncombed, and even from across the room, Jane could see the edges of a long beard on the man. He looked like a hermit. Feeling like a peeping Tom, Jane decided it was time move along to explore more of the building. Just as he was about to leave, Jane noticed the man shift in his chair to gaze out of his tiny window. What he saw made Patrick rear back in shock as the face that peered out vacantly at him suddenly cried to him for help.

The man was Dr. David Litchfield.

The emaciated man stood up on wobbly legs and beckoned to Jane to come closer, motioning with his fingers as if to indicate that Jane should unlock the door. Almost falling over in disbelief and confusion, Jane backed up and started to run towards the corner of the hallway, this new revelation a huge turning point in their investigation. The puzzle of Litchfield Home was deepening by the minute and Jane no longer knew who to believe or accept at face value. Whatever had happened to cause the haggard dark haired man to be locked away while his exact double walked freely, was a mystery to Jane. He jogged towards the spot in the wall where the panel would open up and let him disappear into the alleyway again. Not sure where the exit at the back of the building was located, Jane decided to go back the way he came in. His mind was racing. There couldn't be two David Litchfields, not possible. Was that poor jailed man just someone who looked like the Doctor or was he somehow related? Was the Doctor who he said he was or was _he_ the fraud? If so, he had fooled everyone in town for years. Who was the real deal and who was the fake? And if the patient was a relative, why was he incarcerated in a psychiatric facility? Did mental illness run in the Litchfield family? Patrick needed to call Cho. He retrieved his cell phone out of his pocket and discovered with concern he had no reception back here. Too much interference from something mechanical was screwing up the signal.

Cursing under his breath, he went back to fumbling around, running his fingers along all of the seams of the panelling, looking for a way out of here. Jane desperately needed to find the switch to open the door from this side. There were no decorative rosettes here, just smooth panelling. He took a moment to calm himself and stared at the wall, looking for an anomaly, something different, a surprise hidden in the woodwork. While it all looked the same to him, he knew it must open, so he had to be smarter. He turned his attention to the wall behind him, across the narrow hall. There...at head height...what was that? Jane stepped closer and saw a tiny diamond set into the panelling, a slightly lighter coloured speck of inlaid wood that appeared nowhere else on this long wall. Reaching out, he depressed the spot and it moved ever so slightly.

The familiar sound of the panelling opening began again and Jane moved back across the hall to slip inside the wall as quickly as possible. Heart racing, Jane flicked the light switch to close the panel and jogged across the well worn tiles yet again, until he saw the staircase on his left. Decision time. Did he dare risk going up there to do a quick search of what was most likely David Litchfield's private apartment? Knowing he might not get this chance again, Jane made a snap decision and took the stairs two at a time. Nearing the top, Jane crept up silently, not sure if he would meet someone once he got there. There was no one.

Upon reaching the last step, Jane crossed over into a beautiful old bedroom, obviously once occupied by Grandfather Merle Litchfield so that he could come and go to his private suite without having to use the more public staircase in the front hallway. Smart idea. Jane quickly walked the circumference of the room, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Nothing jumped out to grab his attention. The room, though old-fashioned and a bit heavily outfitted, was very orderly and neat. He was wasting precious time up here. A laptop sat on a small desk but was locked down. Not having the time to figure out the password, Jane let it go without further fuss. Crossing the room as he headed back towards the stairs, Jane noticed an armoire set into a niche against the far corner of the bedroom. With so much ornate woodwork in the small space, he had overlooked it in his haste. Opening the beautifully carved mahogany doors, he saw nothing but an ordinary closet inside, with shirts, pants and suits lined up with precision. The floor held several pairs of shoes but nothing else. Jane felt around to see if something was at the back of the armoire, something out of sight. It was just a solid wooden wall. As his fingers ran around the lower edge of the back panel, a cool breeze hit his fingers.

Straightening up, he paused to consider why a cool breeze was coming into an armoire that was already inside a sealed room. Jane pushed the shirts aside and contemplated the back wall of the armoire. Running his hands all over it he looked for another rosette or something to trigger another surprise door or opening. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Feeling disappointed, he dropped to his knees and reached under the armoire and felt around for a key or button to push. As his hand brushed against the side of the armoire leg, a small square of wood moved ever so slightly and the wall behind the shirts opened up!

Jane leapt to his feet and gazed into another closet space directly behind the armoire. This truly was a house of wonders. Shoving the suits and shirts aside, he leaned in and stared at an incriminating assortment of items lined up on shelves and placed on hooks in this hidden space. Wigs sat on styrofoam heads; moustaches and beards sat next to pots of spirit gum, to glue the beards securely in place. Glasses without prescription lenses also sat on a shelf next to gloves, a scarf and a folded top coat. A tingle crept up Jane's spine as he realized what he had stumbled upon. He had to get the hell out of there and call Cho for reinforcements and arrest David Litchfield, or whoever that man really was. Touching the square of wood again made the back panel of the armoire slowly close, while Jane pushed the shirts roughly back into place. As soon as he could get the armoire doors shut, Jane ran back across the bedroom towards the staircase, scrambling down as fast as he could without alerting anyone close enough to hear him banging around in the wall. He reached the tiled path, planning to head back to the Doctor's office, then the front door and finally, his escape in his car. Flicking the light switch, he stepped back into the office and stood by the heavy mahogany door, panting, listening. Voices outside Litchfield's office made him pause in his haste to get away. Putting his head against the door, Jane heard the Doctor speaking to the Receptionist.

Shit! He had stayed too long and was now trapped.


	12. The Name's Bond, James Bond

Thank you to everyone who wrote after the last chapter. You are asking a lot of good questions, but all will be explained as time goes by.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 12

The Name's Bond, James Bond

"A friend came to see me? Which friend? Didn't you get his name? Who let him in?" David Litchfield barked at his Receptionist in annoyance. He had been interrogated by Senior Agent Kimball Cho at the FBI office in Austin this morning and he was in no mood to put up with any more crap. And now someone was allowed into his office without his knowledge.

Jane didn't stick around to listen to the rest, he was about to be caught. Since the way out through the front door to his car was blocked, Jane turned back towards the secret alleyway and entered the hidden space once more. He ran the short length of the path and was then faced with the other small door set into the wall. Listening intently, he tried to determine if anyone was working on the other side. If he stepped out and startled a nurse or patient, a general alarm would be raised and he would never be able to slip out unnoticed. He was sure there had to be a back entrance to this building, but from what he could see so far, it was hidden somewhere beyond the Secure Unit. He had to find it fast.

A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead and off his nose. It was stuffy and hot in this narrow space, no place to stay for any length of time. He calmed his emotions and slowed his heart rate, his ear to the wall. Silence. He waited, just to make sure he was not making a huge mistake, then he gathered his nerve and reached for the light switch on his right hand side, flicking it off this time. The door slid open once again and Jane stepped out. This time he turned to his right and ran without a plan, hoping another hallway would eventually lead to an exit.

As he jogged down the dimly lit hall, a burly man rounded the corner and jolted back in surprise. Medical orderly Fred Corman was heading back to his wing of the hospital when Jane suddenly appeared before him. It wasn't visiting hours, and this guy sure as hell wasn't on staff, so Fred drew himself up to his considerable height and stopped Jane with a hand against his shoulder.

"Sorry buddy, hospital's off limits until 4 p.m. The public isn't allowed back here."

Jane craned his neck to stare at the hand on his jacket, then he stepped away from Fred's touch in indignance.

"I'm here on police business, FBI. Mrs. Rogers let me in to speak to the staff, so if you don't mind…" he said, starting to walk away. He didn't have time for this crap. Fred followed and stopped him again.

"Got any proof G-man?"

"Here!" Jane said, flashing his badge under Fred's uncomprehending nose. The badge looked pretty official to the simple man. He was impressed!

"She knows you're in here?" Fred asked, knowing what a battleaxe that woman was.

"Yes, I managed to pass her scrutiny. And you are?" Jane asked, guessing Fred's job here from his demeanor and uniform.

"Fred Corman, I work for Dr. Litchfield in the Secure Unit, orderly and mechanic. You name it, I do it!" Fred said proudly.

"Fred, nice to meet you" Jane said with a forced smile. This guy was taking up time he didn't want to waste, as he needed to get out of here ASAP and call Cho.

"So, you say you're an Agent, like a spy?" the orderly asked suspiciously.

"Something like that."

"You need anything, you just ask me...I know this place inside out" Fred said with self importance.

"Thank you Fred, I will." Jane took a step away, then came back. "Actually, I'm done with my inspection, and I was told there was a back way out of here? I don't want to upset the patients by going through the building again."

"The Doctor is the only one who uses that old entrance, to bring in patients who might be difficult, if ya know what I mean" Fred said seriously, knowing that some patients fought their commitment to an mental institution tooth and nail. "I'm surprised you were told about it."

"Well, apparently the police can use it too, so if you would be so kind as to show me the way out, I'll let you get back to work Fred" Jane said evenly, watching the time slip away.

"Sure thing Agent. Follow me." Fred started to walk down the hallway, with Jane following, when an angry shout boomed behind them.

"Stop that man!"

Dr. Litchfield had entered his office and found no one there while Jane was trying to make his escape. Who the hell had entered his office? Knowing that the only way out was past Mrs. Rogers, and she hadn't seen anyone wander by, he checked the panelled wall and saw fresh drag marks on the carpet. With a sick feeling, the Doctor hit the rosette on the panelling and ran through the tiled hallway, dashing upstairs to his bedroom. He went directly to his armoire. Opening the doors he shoved his clothing aside and saw that the tail of one of his shirts was stuck in the seam of the back panelling. It had to be that fucking Agent Jane!

Jane had found his hidden disguise closet! If he didn't stop Jane the police would be on his doorstep within the hour. Litchfield ran down the stairs in a panic and lunged for the small doorway at the far end of the hall, hitting the lightswitch while cursing the day he ever came here. The door slid open and the Doctor spilled out, looking for Jane. Ahead of him he saw Fred leading Jane towards the back of the building, to the doorway that would let Jane get away and destroy Litchfield's world.

"Stop him Fred! He's going to get away!" David yelled, running as fast as possible to grapple with Jane. Jane only had one chance to get out, so he bolted away, running blindly down the darkened hallway, not knowing where he was going, but Fred was right on his heels. With no clue what was going on, Fred was loyal to his boss and not this stranger, so he tackled Jane and brought him crashing down heavily onto the gleaming floor. Jane fought him off, shouting at the man to let him get up and prove who he was.

"I'm Patrick Jane, with the Austin FBI office. Get off me!" Jane yelled, trying to get out from under Fred's considerable girth.

"Doc?" Fred questioned, thoroughly confused now as the Doctor jogged over to the two men.

"Hold him Fred. He's a new admission, completely delusional. Got away from me. Thinks he's a secret Agent...don't you Patrick?" Litchfield said as he pulled a syringe out of his white jacket pocket. "Hold him steady Fred, he needs to calm down" the Doctor ordered as he uncapped the syringe and plunged the sedative into Jane's upper arm. Jane now had two men holding him down while he tried to convince Fred to call the police and tell them he was being held against his will.

"It's gonna be alright Mister, or should I call you Mr. Bond?" Fred said kindly, leaning on Jane's upper body, pinning him to the ground. "Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore. No secret Agents can find you here. We're all working for the same team OK buddy?"

Jane gazed up into David Litchfield's cold eyes and saw a smile slide across his face. The drug he had been injected with was working fast, but Jane continued to struggle futilely against its effects, still trying to get out from under Fred's muscular body. While the Doctor smiled down malevolently at Jane, the room started to sway, tipping precipitously to the left, then to the right, like a ship in a storm tossed sea. Nausea overwhelmed Jane as his equilibrium was compromised. He felt weightless, his arms and legs seemingly separate from his torso and unable to help him move any longer. Then, he felt the floor drop out from underneath his body. A chasm opened up and Jane felt himself descending, his body slipping away as he fell, fell, fell into a bottomless pit of blackness. As the sedative took over his mind, Jane's body slackened and relaxed, until all of the fight went out of him. His unseeing eyes lost focus and closed as his head hit the floor with a sickening smack. Fred got up cautiously and lifted one limp arm.

"Out cold Doc" he affirmed. "Where d'ya want him to go?"

"Take him back to the Secure Unit. I need to keep him sedated until I decide whether to let him stay for treatment or send him to a larger mental facility. He's pretty dangerous to himself and everyone else right now. I might have to move him out of here for his own good."

"OK Doc, no problem" Fred said, dragging Jane to a sitting position before he threw his body over his shoulder. Litchfield and Fred walked back to the green hallway where the Doctor used his key pass to unlock the door to one of the empty rooms. He waved Fred inside with Jane still over his burly shoulder.

"Put him on the bed, strip him down to his boxers and put him into a straight jacket. We don't want him upsetting the other patients if he starts attacking the walls" Litchfield said calmly.

"Sure thing Doc."

Fred had done this many times, so he mechanically undressed the unconscious man and handed the Doctor Jane's jacket, vest, shirt, pants and shoes. When Jane was completely restrained in the straight jacket, Fred left to go back to his other duties. To him, this was just another normal, crazy day at the Psychiatric Home.

Dr. Litchfield stood beside the narrow bed and stared down at Jane's slack face, both exhilarated that he had prevented Jane from contacting the police about the disguises, but frightened too. Jane presented a huge problem for the Doctor now. He couldn't let him expose his predilection for attacking young women, both for sex and revenge, and his newfound enjoyment of murder. Mr. Jane had seen too much, knew too much, and no doubt had come to the conclusion that Lynn Michaels' attacker had been found. It would be a small leap to then connect Litchfield with the deaths of Palley, Klein and Moore. The Doctor studied Jane with apprehension. His carefully constructed life here was crumbling around him, day by day, hour by hour. A change of plans was necessary, and fast. But he still had some time to pull off a final flamboyant act, then he would disappear, this time for good. With luck, no one would ever discover his true identity. For now though, he had to deal with Jane. David believed that if no one was ever told what Jane had seen upstairs in the hidden closet, the secrets in this house would remain just that, secret. The FBI wouldn't put 2 and 2 together and connect Litchfield to the murders in Markdale. Now, with Jane's incarceration here at Litchfield Home, he had to adjust his plans, fast.

This cop had to disappear, permanently. How and when that would happen depended on whether the local cops stayed in the dark about Lynn Michaels' rape and death. Sighing with frustration, David Litchfield walked away, taking one last look at his prisoner before he locked the door. No matter what happened, Jane would never leave this place as a free man, ever again.

(FBI - Austin)

There was a message on Cho's desk to call Officer Pam Cruz when he returned to his office. Puzzled by her need to talk again so soon, he dialed her number and waited. A moment later she came on the line.

"Officer Cruz, Senior Agent Cho. You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes Sir. We have a situation that I thought you should know about. It's Lynn Michaels."

"Did she remember something else about the man who attacked her?"

"Sir, Lynn Michaels has disappeared. We think her attacker came back for her and killed her."

Cho let out a deep breath and sank into his leather chair. "What happened?"

"She's been hiding out at her Aunt's house not far from Markdale. She asked her roommate to bring her some clothes and things from her room yesterday. The roommate says Lynn was doing well, seemed OK. When her Aunt came home from work after 6 p.m., Lynn was gone."

"She could be out with friends, gone to the mall, a movie...how is this a missing persons case?" Cho asked sensibly.

"Not a missing person Sir. There's blood everywhere at her Aunt's house. Looks like she was beaten pretty badly then taken out by the back door. Our local cops were called in by her Aunt Mary and found a trail of blood from her bedroom to the back door, where it stops. She most likely was picked up and carried away."

Cho leaned back, a sinking feeling overtaking him. She'd been tracked and found by the man, again. He just knew it. For whatever reason, the perp felt she presented too great a threat to him.

"Have your people sealed off the crime scene?"

"Yessir...we thought maybe the FBI wanted to step in and take over" Cruz said.

"Good call. I'll get some Agents and a forensic team over there immediately. Have you canvassed the neighbourhood for witnesses?"

"Yessir. Nobody saw anything. We're at a dead end" she said without irony.

"OK, I'll sent out a team right now. Keep me informed if anything else turns up."

"Yes Agent Cho."

"Officer Cruz?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Good work."

"Thank you Sir."

Cho rubbed his eyes with his fingers and stared off into space. This killer was getting bolder or crazier. Lynn Michaels had been a random target, chosen on the spur of the moment. Whatever precautions the killer had been taking for months seemed to be thrown to the wind in his need for bloodlust and revenge. No one was safe now.

(Jane Household - Noon)

Teresa and Anika sat at the kitchen table singing a song about frogs. Anika was well again, and now, full of energy after an extra long sleep.

"Daddy home?" she asked succinctly.

"No sweetie, not yet. He's at work, but he'll be home later, after your nap this afternoon. Then we can play with him upstairs until bedtime."

"Ok...how soon?"

"Not yet" Teresa smiled. Not understanding time certainly had its difficulties if you were a small child. How long from now was 'later'? Really soon, in just a little while, after lunch? After naptime could be a really really long time! Grownups were so mysterious sometimes, KiKi mused. She played with her favorite dolls while she worked her way through a sandwich, chatting in a non-stop stream of childish babble. It was music to Teresa's ears.

After lunch was cleaned up, Teresa checked to see if Jane had called and left a message. Nothing so far, but when Anika got busy with a movie that she loved, Teresa opened the pdf from Wylie to scan the faces he had compiled to see what the man in Markdale might look like without a beard. A wave of apprehension hit her when she stared at two or three of the mockups. Those versions of the attacker looked familiar, as if she could have met someone like that. That was the problem with mockups. Eventually, they could make you think they looked like your own father. She decided to mull that over in her mind while she cared for Anika today. Who had she met that might look like that attempted rapist?

She decided to give Cho a call. Being at home was wonderful, but she needed to know if anything new had developed in the case today.

"Teresa, everything OK with Anika?" Cho asked with worry when he saw who was calling.

"She's fine today, just needed to get a good sleep and some food in her. My curiosity got the better of me. I understand you called Dr. Litchfield in for an interview this morning. How'd that go?"

"Good, smooth. He seemed more perturbed that he had to miss work than anything else. Seems like he cares about his patients and their families. Wasn't bothered by any of my questions. He did say one interesting thing though."

"What's that?"

"I asked him why all of his staff was so new, with no one there for more than 11 months in total. He said about a year ago he seriously considered either closing the hospital and going overseas to volunteer in a third world country, or perhaps selling the practice and the building and going to a larger research facility. Since most of his employees were older, from the time his father ran the hospital, he didn't replace them when they retired. The younger staff members were informed the hospital might be closing, so they moved on to other jobs. Some were fired for poor performance or conflicts with the rules. When he decided to stay, he just hired part-time staff and younger staffers who were told they only had 6 or 9 month contracts. Then if he decided to move on, no one was going to be inconvenienced again. He felt it freed him up to follow his dreams elsewhere."

"Sounds altruistic. Do you believe him?"

"I might after we check his finances. He could just be running ahead of his creditors. Selling the facility would put money in his pockets and provide a payoff to his bankers. We're going to see if his story holds water."

"Jane asked him if Carrie came to visit him the day she died, he said no. Did you address that with him?"

"We went over that and he maintains Carrie never came to the Home that Sunday."

"What if he found her, on the street? What if he took her somewhere, put GHB in her drink and killed her?" Teresa suggested.

"That's dark Teresa" Cho laughed.

"Cho, someone knew Carrie and was able to get close enough to her to drug her and kill her. It had to be someone she felt comfortable with. It's not so far fetched" Teresa said defiantly. She'd had a lot of time to consider all the possibilities over the last two days. No one was above suspicion.

"No, not so far fetched I guess. Heard from Jane today?"

"Not yet. He had a few stops to make today, said he'd call in to check on Anika, so I should be hearing from him soon."

"Good. Oh, and...there's been a development in the Lynn Michaels case."

"Did we catch the perp Cho?"

Cho shook his head reflexively even though Lisbon couldn't see him. "No, we didn't. She's been attacked again, badly. She may be dead Teresa."

"May be dead? Cho, what happened?" she asked with concern.

"She was taken from her Aunt's house sometime between 5 and 6 last night, and it appears she was badly injured. We haven't found her yet, but it's not looking good."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, then Teresa found her voice.

"Keep me in the loop Cho. If you need me to come in, just say so."

"Will do. Stay with KiKi for now, but be ready if we need you today. Bye Teresa."

Teresa hung up the phone and stared at Anika as she watched her movie. So innocent, so fragile, so deserving of a beautiful life, like Lynn Michaels had deserved. She made a decision and picked up the phone again, placing a call to her trusted baby sitter Martha. The older woman was like a grandmother to Anika and loved to spend time with the little girl. Teresa hoped Martha would be able to come over on short notice. Teresa had decided to drive over to the FBI office anyway, as long as Anika was left in good hands with Martha. A shiver ran through her as she walked over to put her arms around her little girl. Maybe Jane would unearth something that would expose the killer today. She hoped he'd call soon.


	13. Back To Hell

Well I've written 4 more chapters in the last several days and things are heating up. I hope you'll stick with me and see where all of this goes!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 13

Back to Hell

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home - 12:45 p.m.)

As soon as he returned to his office, Dr. Litchfield tossed Jane's clothing on his desk and searched the pockets. His jacket held nothing of import except his car keys and cell phone, which the Doctor proceeded to smash into bits. The pant pockets only held business cards and a mint. Next he examined the vest, an odd thing for a man to wear these days, but there was no accounting for taste, he snickered. Inside the vest pockets, the obvious ones, he found a photo of a cherubic little girl, dark haired and tanned, sitting on the lap of a beautiful, petite woman. He knew this woman! It was the FBI agent who had come to see him the other day with Jane. Husband and wife! The photo was taken at a park with both smiling and waving at the camera. Flipping the photo over, he read with interest:

'To the best Daddy in the world, Happy Fathers Day! Love KiKi and Teresa'

Dr. Litchfield pocketed the photo, sure it would be useful to him at some point, if only to torment Mr. Jane about his family's safety. An odd assortment of items emerged from pockets hidden all over the vest: brightly coloured marbles, playing cards, metal interlocking ring puzzles, gum, more mints, a two headed coin. From the looks of this little pile of treasures he was either dealing with a 10 year old boy or someone who dabbled in magic. Still, nothing overtly important had been discovered. The vest seemed to have been hand made, since no other vest would have so many hidden compartments, almost invisible to the casual observer. Looking over every seam and fold, Litchfield found another pocket, with something hard tucked away inside. Feeling for the opening, he touched a piece of cardboard and pulled it out. It was a small hard square, which when unfolded, revealed an old black and white photo of two boys, one on a bike, the other yelling in the distance.

Litchfield almost dropped it in shock. How the hell did Jane get this photo? That bitch nurse Sue Moore had seen it and questioned the Doctor about it, and look where that got her! Since no one from the police or FBI had come to question him about it obviously they had no idea what it meant, the stooges. He finished checking the clothing for more surprises then stashed everything in his safe, adding the clothing to the other items he had taken from Sue Moore, Carrie Klein and Bill Palley. His trophies made him realize how powerful he was. It was also a reminder that no one dared to reject him.

Feeling like he had more breathing room now, the Doctor straightened his hair and clothing, then stepped out into the main hall. Dr. Litchfield stopped in at the Reception Room and informed Mrs. Rogers he had to go out for a couple of hours. She nodded and carried on with the card game she was playing on her computer. Hers was a very easy job.

Litchfield took Jane's car keys and found his car in the guest parking spot. He backed out and tore off, wheels spinning in the loose gravel, needing to dispose of the vehicle as soon as possible. The lot was on the side of the building with no windows, so no one inside saw him leave. He drove away from Markdale, taking back roads and country lanes to a spot he knew well from his childhood. About 50 minutes away, in the next county, there was a large undeveloped piece of land that generations of country kids had ridden their bikes to on steamy summer days. Hidden well off the road at the back of the property was a large pond where bored kids swam to escape the intolerable heat. Sometime long ago, someone had thrown seeds into the ground and every year, in the fall, some scraggly pumpkins managed to grown unattended amongst the weeds and brambles. The entire property looked dismal this time of year.

The Doctor drove the car as far over the land as he could, until he neared the perimeter of the pond. He placed the car in park and found a heavy rock, which he placed on the gas pedal, revving the engine immediately. Reaching in, he quickly pulled the arm back from 'park' to 'drive' and fell backwards as the car shot forward like a self-propelled rocket. The sedan raced to the edge of the pond and became airborne, landing heavily nose down in the water a good 20 feet from the shore. Dr. Litchfield stood and watched as the car slowly sank to the bottom of the deep pond. He waited until the last of the bubbles stopped surfacing, then with a satisfied smirk, he turned and jogged back to the road. He called a taxi to pick him up at the next highway interchange, and then took his time and enjoyed walking on such a lovely day. Once he reached the highway, the taxi pulled up and took him back to the Home. No one had any idea what he had done, and so he went back to his office as if it was just another day. He had one more pressing issue to deal with before he decided how to move forward with his newest 'patient'. Dr. Litchfield buzzed Mrs. Rogers and asked her if Kim was still on duty.

"Yes Doctor, Kim's shift ends in a few hours."

"Please find her and ask her to come to my office."

"Yes Sir."

Kim was walking back towards the staff room when the Receptionist found her and passed on Dr. Litchfield's request. The woman had been on a six month work term, which was almost up, and she hoped this meeting would result in her being hired again. With a hopeful spring in her step she walked to the Doctor's office and knocked on his door.

"Come in Kim."

"You wanted to see me Dr. Litchfield?"

"Yes, close the door and sit down please."

Kim's happy feeling suddenly took a nosedive. Dr. Litchfield didn't look particularly pleased to see her. He was unsmiling and seemed pissed off. Now what?

As the Doctor watched the young woman settle herself in the leather chair opposite his desk, he ran various scenarios through his mind...what to do with her...how severe should he be?

"Kim, it's almost the end of your shift and I won't take up too much of your time. You must have some idea why you're here" he began slowly.

"Yes, I think I do. My term is up, and I'm hopeful you'll want to hire me again now that you've seen what I can do for your patients" she said with a smile.

The Doctor leaned back and didn't return her smile. Instead, he reached into his desk and pulled out a file folder with her name on the front.

"Sadly, no, that's not the result I've come to. Kim, I am terminating your employment here as of this moment. You allowed a stranger to enter my office and spend time here unaccompanied this morning" he started to lecture her. Kim felt the floor drop out beneath her.

"But Doctor Litchfield, he's your friend from University, and he knew everything about this office, even the furniture!"

"So tell me Kim, what was his name?"

Kim gazed at her now-ex boss in embarrassment. She never got the man's name, not one single time when she had asked. But he was so nice and obviously knew the Doctor!

"His name, Kim? And did anyone else approve of his visit to my office?"

Kim shook her head in shame. She realized she had screwed up so badly that she was getting fired. How did her whole world spin out of control so fast?

"I'm so sorry Dr. Litchfield, I didn't catch his name. It was only me, I let him come back here. He said he wanted to speak to you to invest money into the Home, so I knew you'd want to meet with him. Sorry…" she ended lamely.

"As I'm sure you can appreciate, we can't have strangers, or friends, or family members wandering around here alone, with no one being accountable for their actions, can we Kim?"

"No Doctor" she replied meekly.

"I can't overlook this huge misjudgment on your part and for that, you are fired. Please clear out your locker and leave the premises within the next 10 minutes. And for your own reputation, never mention this to anyone again, understand?" he added ominously.

Feeling sick, Kim stood up quickly. She couldn't get out of that small office fast enough, such was her remorse.

"I understand. Sorry…" she said again as she left his office quietly, tears rolling down her cheeks. She had never lost a job before and was ashamed of herself for being so stupid. Within the ten minute time allotment, she was out of the building and driving away, never to see the Home again.

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home - 3 p.m.)

Jane felt like a sausage in a too-tight casing. Why his arms were so numb was confusing for him in his foggy state of mind. He was flat on his back and a bit cold, his blanket missing. With his eyes still closed with sedation, he rolled over on the hard narrow bed to try to get more comfortable. He couldn't lift his arms to fluff his pillow into some semblance of support. His fingers were tingling slightly, so he decided that he must have slept badly, cutting off his circulation. Trying to get comfortable again, he rolled in the opposite direction and reached the edge of the narrow cot. Expecting to be on a much larger bed, he rolled too far and tumbled out onto the cold, hard floor. The fall jolted his brain into more awareness of his odd situation. Jane lay on his side, thoroughly chilled and heavily restricted in his movements. As the sedative was losing some of its power over him, he tried opening his eyes, seeing an unfamiliar landscape ahead of him. Instead of his warm, tastefully decorated bedroom filled with cosy furniture, he saw a harshly polished linoleum floor patterned with garish green and white squares. The light was dim but he could see enough to know he wasn't in his own room in his own beachfront house. Trying to sit up, he found he still could not use his arms. Panic fluttered through his addled brain as he considered that he had suffered a stroke.

Jane rolled over from his side and got up onto his backside, staring out into his 'cell'. The stark white walls, industrial furniture bolted to the floor and the antiseptic smell of the place suddenly seemed familiar, sickeningly familiar. As long ago warehoused images and memories broke through his consciousness, Jane knew exactly where he was and what he was.

He was a patient in a mental institution.

The hallucinogenic drug that Litchfield had used on him caused Jane to regress, removing all of the mental safeguards and coping mechanisms he used every day to move forward, live in the moment and keep his darkest memories safely locked behind a thick steel door in his memory palace. Now his mind had travelled back to that time of horror and grief, the current life he shared with Teresa and Anika erased from his memory. He was living in the past and it had come back to haunt him.

Jane recoiled in fear and revulsion as the magnitude of his situation hit him hard, it was too cruel and impossible to believe. Why was he trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey? Why did he need to be in a straight jacket...was he a danger to himself? The events of the day had not come back to him upon awakening, thanks to the drug Litchfield had used. Instead of remembering Litchfield and Fred capturing him several hours earlier, Jane's memory palace rolled back time and placed him firmly back into the mental institution he had lived in for many months in the early 2000's after Charlotte and Angela died. For Jane, now, his reality was that of a recently widowed father. As far as he was concerned, Angela and Charlotte had been slaughtered only a few weeks ago, their bodies grotesquely arranged for him to discover after he returned from taping that ridiculous TV show. Jane cried out in horror. His family was dead and he was crazy!

A feral, desperate howl escaped his lips as he felt the crushing pain of their deaths as keenly as he had so very long ago. Long suppressed tears were unleashed and rolled down his cheeks as his chest was racked with sobs of the deepest pain a loving husband and father could feel. He had wanted to die all those years ago, and now, that feeling of hopelessness slammed back with a vengeance. If his family was dead, he wanted to die too and if he had to kill himself in this place, by God he'd do it at the first opportunity. Jane was temporarily out of his mind once again. Whatever drug Litchfield had used had released all of Jane's carefully suppressed and managed demons. Falling against the side of the metal bed, Jane succumbed to the memories of his worst days, his present life completely forgotten, and sobbed as his heart broke anew.

David Litchfield got up from his desk and strolled back to the Secure Unit, curious to see how his newest patient was faring now that the hallucinogen had done its work to subdue and befuddle the FBI man. He swiped his key pass against the lock and heard the click, letting him enter the green hallway. He ignored his other patients and hurried over to view Jane through the small wire-meshed window. What he saw left him pleased. Instead of his prisoner fighting against his restraints and screaming indignantly to be set free, he saw a completely broken and distraught man howling in grief. Whatever ghosts this man had been hiding in his psyche, they were free and running roughshod over his mind. Either that, or he was the best actor the Doctor had ever seen.

Litchfield smiled deeply. This was too much to hope for. His captive had gone over the edge and, apparently, posed no threat to him. For David Litchfield, there couldn't have been a better turn of events. He swiped the locking mechanism on Jane's cell door and stepped inside, needing to see if this was a persuasive act put on by a very intelligent man, or if it was an attempt to lull him into carelessness. Either way, he was still armed with enough drugs to bring down a bull elephant. Mr. Jane would have no chance against him now.

Patrick saw a doctor enter his room and recoiled in fear.

"Stay away! Get out!" he screamed, unreasonable terror gripping his heart as he faced a fraud in white. He didn't know this man. He didn't know this place! There was someone else...someone he almost trusted...Sophie.

"Where is Dr. Miller? I need Dr. Miller!"

"Mr. Jane….relax...do you know where you are?" the Doctor asked softly, trying to gauge Jane's level of psychosis.

"Get out!"

Litchfield stepped closer, squatting down a few feet away from Jane's tortured face.

"Can you remember how you got here Mr. Jane?"

"Dr. Sophie Miller! I need to see her! Not you, not some quack…" Patrick turned away and remembered Dr. Sophie Miller and her calming presence. Other than that...nothing. Nothing except seeing Angela, flayed and arranged amongst the pillows on their king sized bed, a tiny, fragile, broken doll of a woman forever lost to him. He could see Charlotte too, so beautiful, so angelic, curled up against her mother's cold body, her own body opened and slashed like a piece of meat. There was no other memory, no other reality...how could there be?

"They're dead" Jane whispered, imagining their bodies, there, in front of him, his eyes unseeing when he stared at the Doctor. "He killed them... because of me...because of me."

"Who died Mr. Jane?"

Jane looked at the Doctor as if he was the crazy one.

"My family! My wife! My little girl! Dead….because of me…" he whimpered softly again. "I had to be the bigshot and he killed them" he continued, his voice barely audible. Then he seemed to collect himself and spoke with an almost dismissive tone.

"You can go now...I'm alright. I'm going to join them..." Jane whispered, surprising the hell out of Dr. Litchfield. Clearly this man had suffered a terrible trauma and was deep in the grips of it again. The cocky, self-assured man David had met the previous day was now just an empty shell, all sense of self erased by a powerful drug. Who was this Dr. Sophie Miller? Had this FBI man actually been a mental patient at some point in his life? As soon as he could, Litchfield planned to do a quick background check on this mysterious man and use whatever he discovered to his own benefit.

This outcome was better than anything the Doctor could have hoped for. He didn't have to kill this FBI agent. Now psychotic, Patrick Jane wanted to kill himself! If that's what he wanted, then he would certainly help him achieve his goal! Turning quickly, Litchfield jogged to the door and locked it behind him, leaving Jane staring off into space, seeing his wife and daughter crying out to him to save them. He turned his face to the wall and wept until there were no more tears left to cry, then he rolled down onto the cold tile floor and lay there shivering, miserable, hopeless.

Litchfield ran upstairs and opened his laptop, searching the internet for any information he could find about Patrick Jane and Dr. Sophie Miller.

It was all there….and what he found left him speechless.


	14. Endless Sorrow

Thanks to all of the Guest reviewers for taking the time to make a comment or send along their reviews. Sorry I can't answer you but your reviews are much appreciated. Also many thanks to the new readers who favourited this story. You made my day! OK, enough of that, onto Chapter 14!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 14

Endless Sorrow

(FBI - Austin, Texas)

Lisbon stepped out of the elevator, worried and agitated. Jane hadn't called and he promised he would, if only to check up on Anika. Something was terribly wrong. Wylie watcher her walk quickly towards Cho's office and knew something bad had happened. He'd find out what it was soon enough. Cho was behind his desk when Teresa knocked on his door.

"Teresa? Everything alright? You could have waited until tomorrow…" he began to speak, but she cut him off.

"Where's Jane Cho?" she blurted out, not wasting time on pleasantries.

Cho waved her in and pointed to a chair. He didn't need this, not now. Damn Jane for taking off again after their conversation the other day. The man had promised not to go off without notifying someone. Teresa stepped into the office and sat on a chair, her leg jiggling in nervousness. Cho looked pissed.

"I have no idea. You said he was running a few errands and would check in with you and then me, but we haven't heard from him today" Cho said with concern. "Where do you think he might have gone?"

"First thought? Litchfield Home, to speak to the rest of the staff and the Doctor again. After that, maybe the pharmacy or the family of Lynn Michaels...maybe somewhere else...he could be anywhere" she said with uncertainty. "It's not like him to blow off a call concerning Anika. He'd never ignore her if she's recovering from an illness."

Cho stood up and reached for his jacket. He was going to find Jane and ream him out, again.

"Let's go."

Teresa stood up, confused. "Where to?"

"Litchfield Home. All signs point to that location, so let's pay attention."

As they walked towards the bullpen, Wylie called Cho over to show him some photos on his computer screen.

"What is it Jason?" Cho said, in a hurry to go find Jane.

"We've found a couple of facial matches for the man who attacked Lynn Michaels. Here...see for yourself" he said as he swung his laptop around for Cho and Teresa to examine. "The first man is an actor at the theatre company in Markdale. He had the opportunity and was in close proximity to the attack area. The next guy is sitting in jail at the moment in Markdale, arrested for sexual assault on a college student. He looks like a promising suspect."

Cho and Teresa looked at the man and agreed, he could easily be their man.

"And the third match, is this man...Dr. David Litchfield. It's not a perfect match, but he does share some of the characteristics of the perp."

Cho leaned in and studied the faces of all three men. "Wylie, take an agent to Markdale to interrogate the man they have in custody. Show him Lynn Michaels' photo and see if he has an alibi for the night she was attacked and the night she was kidnapped. I'll send two agents to interrogate the actor and Teresa and I will go to the Psychiatric Home and see what the Doctor has to say for himself."

"Ok, thanks! I'll get right on it!" Jason said with excitement. His forays out into the field were coming more often thanks to Cho's encouragement and willingness to let the young man make mistakes and grow from them.

Cho was even more quiet than usual on the drive out of Austin as he and Teresa headed towards Markdale and the Psychiatric Home. Feeding off his anger, she too was upset that Jane hadn't called. It was inconsiderate, it was hurtful, and it was….not like him. He could piss off Cho and apologize for it later, but to blow off Teresa when she was home with a sick child? No, something wasn't right. She turned to face Cho, this new worry etched on her face.

"He wouldn't ignore your request to check in Cho. He felt bad the other day for worrying you."

"Well he's gone silent again, so how does that show he paid attention?"

"Cho, his phone isn't working. It's dead or in a dead zone. Maybe that's part of the reason he hasn't contacted either of us. Cho, he was going to call about Anika and he wouldn't lie about that, not when it concerned his little girl. He's in trouble, I know it!"

Cho gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, believing everything Teresa was telling him. He had also tried to reach Jane today and discovered Jane's phone was out of commission. He had assumed Jane switched it off, but now...now it seemed like it was a more serious situation. The Doctor at the Home had better be honest when he met with them. If Jane had gone to the Home, someone would have spoken to him, seen him. If nothing else, Jane was memorable.

"I'll put a BOLO out on Jane's car. If he went to Markdale, it's a small enough place that the local cops would find it pretty fast. That will be a good starting point if we get nowhere with Dr. Litchfield" Cho told Teresa, seeing how worried she was. Jane was a cat whose nine lives were rapidly diminishing in numbers. Eventually, he would die, just like everyone else.

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home)

The story of Patrick Jane was all over the internet. His former fame as a psychic, then the tragic deaths of his beloved wife and daughter made lurid copy for newspapers and nighttime entertainment shows. All of it was on online, or on Youtube. Litchfield read it all, watched it all, and became even more stunned when he read of Jane's metamorphosis into a CBI Consultant, all to catch his nemesis Red John. The final sensational entries culminated with Jane murdering his enemy and running away to South America. In between there, if you found the article after much searching, was a small note about his incarceration in a mental hospital right after his family died. This was a virtual goldmine of valuable information. This was going to be the weapon Litchfield used against the FBI agent. He closed his laptop and made a decision. Time to move on.

Dr. Litchfield pulled his suitcase out from under his bed and loaded all of his props and disguises into it, searching his hidden closet for anything that could link him to the murder of Lynn Michaels and the other three victims. Next came whatever clothing he could grab fast, which he recklessly pulled from his closet and drawers, leaving a mess behind. He quickly closed his secret closet and the armoire doors, not caring much if he was cautious. Then he jogged out to his car, tossed the suitcase into the trunk and parked at the back of the Home. Next he entered the building and went back to his office where he placed a call to an airline and booked a one way trip using his real name, to Vietnam, a country with no extradition treaty with the United States. Vietnam was warm, tropical, colourful, in need of doctors out in the outer fringes of the countryside, and a good place to start life again incognito. He had given the idea of escaping to a tropical country a good deal of thought over the past several years, but hadn't planned to disappear quite so quickly. His gig as Dr. David Litchfield had been a good one, fairly easy to pull off medically. But the FBI had forced his hand and he knew that if he didn't leave soon, he wouldn't get out at all. Everything was going to shit.

His travel plans taken care of, he searched the hospital for Fred, and ordered him to release Jane from his straight jacket. Then he returned to his office and worked as if it was a normal day. Fred strolled over to the Secure Unit and unlocked the door. The new patient had been full out paranoid when he was brought in. There was no telling what the drugs the Doctor had given him would do to him in that condition. He unlocked Mr. Jane's door and stepped inside, amazed at the change in this patient. The attitude and cockiness he had witnessed only hours earlier when they had first met in the hallway, had been replaced by depression and catatonia. Jane had backed himself up into a corner, as if he needed to put distance between himself and the outside world, even if it only was measured in feet, not miles.

"How're ya doing now Mr. Jane?" Fred asked as he approached the man carefully. He had no idea if this new patient would become violent. After all, the guy thought he was a Secret Agent. Jane ignored Fred, seemingly unaware he had even spoken.

"Time to take this jacket off. Won't that feel good Mr. Jane?" Fred said kindly. He stooped down and lifted Jane up by his midsection, and meeting with no resistance, walked him over to the bed. Jane was aware that someone was touching him, moving him, placing him in a new part of the room. Why? What for? He slowly turned his gaze to stare into Fred's round face and thought the man looked slightly familiar, but why, he couldn't quite work out. Fred kept up a steady stream of talk to keep his patient occupied so that he wouldn't fight against his attempts to unbuckle the straps keeping the straight jacket wrapped around his body. As each buckle was loosened and unfastened, Jane gained more breathing room. Gradually the whole apparatus was loose enough to shrug off and Jane suddenly had the use of his numb arms once more. As Fred backed up, prepared in case his patient lunged for him, he watched Jane slowly lift his arms and flex them, wiggling his fingers to get the circulation back to normal again. Then Jane turned away from Fred, as if he wasn't there, and lay on the bed, unspeaking and moody. Fred silently left the room and went down to the basement to repair an old air conditioner, sad to see such a handsome and vital man fall so low. Fred was simple, obedient, but at heart, a very good man.

Jane felt the blood race through his arms and fingers and the resulting pain was extreme. While his veins screamed in protest it also had the effect of helping to awaken Jane from his zombie-like state. He lay on his bed, staring at the wall, wondering what he was doing here. His mind was oddly quiet, dulled by drugs into a muddy dark void instead of its normal cacophonous swirl of facts, images, memories and sensory impressions. The blank white wall in front of him captured his attention at the moment, each line and wrinkle in the cinder block surface fascinating. Jane waited until the pain in his extremities died down, then reached out with a tentative finger to trace the outline of every block of cement, counting them mindlessly, pointlessly. This occupied him for a great deal of time until he grew weary and gradually fell asleep, strung out on whatever Dr. Litchfield had used to knock him out in the first place. Sleep opened portals to his past again, links to days spent with Charlotte and Angela, and even though he slept, Jane felt their overwhelming loss just the same as he did during each waking hour. He was trapped in a hellish world of his own guilty making, all of his coping mechanisms slashed and burned by some carefully chosen pharmaceuticals. As his worst memories played on an endless loop in his mind, tears of sorrow dampened his cheeks even while he slept. This was a nightmare without end. If he stayed like this, eventually he would die of grief. Hours passed, hours that culminated in Jane spending a first whole day as a newly minted mental patient, a broken shadow of his former self.

Cho pulled the FBI SUV up to the front entrance of the Home and parked, checking the parking lot for Jane's car. Lisbon stepped out and ran around the corner of the building to look for his car in that lot, but came back disappointed. She and Cho walked inside and found Mrs. Rogers behind her desk scrolling through an onscreen calendar.

"Hello again Mrs. Rogers" Teresa smiled. "We've come to see Dr. Litchfield and to speak to all of the staff this time."

Mrs. Rogers eyed Cho with disdain and consulted her calendar, as if looking for their names.

"We don't have an appointment" Cho informed her. "But I think it would be in everyone's best interest if they cooperated."

"Are you an Agent as well?" she asked, wondering if this was another one of those so-called 'consultants'.

"Senior Agent Kimball Cho" he said, holding out his FBI identification.

"He's the boss" Teresa whispered dramatically, cowing the officious woman once and for all.

"Oh! Well, in that case...Let me call the Doctor and he can show you around. You're in luck, everyone is still on duty" she said helpfully.

"Thank you" Cho said, his face betraying no sign of pleasure with her new-found attitude adjustment.

Mrs. Rogers picked up the phone and dialed the Doctor's office number. Exchanging a few words, she soon replaced the receiver and gave them the good news that the Doctor would be right out. In his office, David was furious. Those damned agents just never gave up! Now they wanted everyone in the Home to speak to them. God only knew what they'd tell the FBI. The patients in the back were a well guarded secret, so he was sure they wouldn't be discussed. What about Jane? Did anyone see him come in?

Only Kim….and she had been fired more than an hour ago.

His secret was safe, for now. Collecting himself, he took off his white lab coat and walked into the Reception room to greet his visitors.

"Agent Jane, so nice to see you again."

"Hello Doctor. This is Senior Agent Kimball Cho. We need to interview your staff."

"That's fine with me but you already spoke to me and some of my staff in Austin. What more can we do for you?" he asked.

Cho ignored the question and pulled out a photo of Lynn Michaels and Patrick Jane.

"Can you ask everyone to assemble in the recreation room, everyone at the same time?"

The Doctor wasn't going to do anything to piss off these Agents so he readily agreed. He led the way out of the small room and guided them to the recreation room. Cho stepped back into the Reception room and beckoned Mrs. Rogers.

"You too Ma'am. We need you too."

Looking insulted, the woman stood up and scurried to catch up to the Doctor, as if he could offer her protection against these intruders. Once in the recreation room the Doctor walked around gathering all of his nurses, aides and Doctors. Only Fred was missing, down in the basement, unaware of the commotion upstairs. The Doctor intended to keep it that way.

"Thank you all for taking a moment to talk with us. We are Agents Cho and Jane of the Austin FBI. We need to ask if any of you have seen these two people today" Cho said, distributing photos amongst the staff. As the photos were passed around, a small murmur arose in the room.

"We saw this man just the other day" a woman called out.

"Yeah, me too" several others joined in. They had seen Jane with Lisbon on their first trip to the Home.

"Has anyone seen this man at the Home today?" Lisbon asked more sharply. The murmurs stopped. Blank looks told them what they needed to know.

"Did this young woman come here?" Cho asked, knowing it was a long shot. Again, silence. Sighing with disappointment, Lisbon gathered up a few of the photos and turned to Cho.

"Well that was a waste of time. There's no way Jane could have come today without at least one person seeing him. He makes a big impression."

"Agents? What else can I do to help you today?" the Doctor asked, seeing the disappointment on Teresa's face.

"Your office" Cho said, indicating that the man should take the lead.

Dr. Litchfield acquiesced and walked back towards the main hallway. Once inside his office, he sat behind his desk and indicated that the Agents should sit down in the guest chairs.

"How can I help now?" he began.

"Your staff hasn't seen Patrick Jane today, but how about you? Did Mr. Jane come and visit you earlier today, while you were in Austin or after you got back, before noon?"

"No, he didn't. If he had, Mrs. Rogers would have met him at Reception. It is impossible to get in here without going past her. She's like a bulldog" he said, smiling broadly. "Who is this other person you were inquiring about? May I see the photo?"

Teresa handed Dr. Litchfield the photo of Lynn Michaels, studying his face as he viewed the picture. His face betrayed no recognition or alarm.

"Pretty girl. Also one of your Agents?" he asked calmly.

"No. She's the victim of an attack and was in hiding. Now she's missing. Our net is being cast pretty wide, so we thought we'd ask around here. You never know who's seen her" Cho said, his face a stern mask. "She went missing last night. Where were you last night between 5 and 7pm Doctor?"

Dr. Litchfield felt a momentary flush of panic rise in his gut. He had indeed slipped out and killed that stupid woman last night and disposed of her body, but Fred was his only alibi and he didn't want these two Agents to know Fred even existed. Fred knew too much now and would innocently blab all about their new patient. He had to think fast.

"I was out. I left work at around 4 p.m. and returned at 8 p.m. Sorry, the only person who saw me go was Mrs. Rogers, because I asked her to stay a bit longer."

"No one else can corroborate your story?" Teresa asked.

"No, no one. I don't usually take someone along to prove where I've been Agent Jane" the Doctor said sarcastically.

"So where did you go?" Cho chimed in. "Someone had to have seen you."

"Well I was in a pretty crowded place, but I doubt anyone can vouch for me. I was at the cemetery, if you must know. Both my father and my grandfather are buried there, along with my mother and aunt. Yesterday was my father's birthday. I usually go and visit him on his birthday and at Christmas. But since he can't speak on my behalf, I can't say if anyone else saw me there" the Doctor answered smoothly, thinking of an alibi on the fly.

"Talking to your deceased father took 4 hours?" Cho commented with disbelief.

"Talking to my father took an hour, driving around to see all the old places he enjoyed took another 45 minutes, and a drink at Harvey's bar took up the rest of the time. I'm sure I'm on their security tape from last night" the Doctor said, speaking the truth, finally.

Cho leaned back and gazed at Teresa. Unless the cemetery had security footage of every person who came and went to visit a grave, they had no way to disprove what the man said. Viewing CCTV footage might show his car driving down a back street in Markham, but again, that proved nothing. The bartender would be interviewed and his security tapes scrutinized. As far as exposing this man as a kidnapper and murderer of Lynn Michaels, their only suggestion of his guilt was a mild resemblance to the man in the beard. Not enough to arrest him, and certainly not enough to hold him. Dr. Litchfield looked from Cho to Lisbon and back again. They had nothing on him, he knew it! They were just fishing! He leaned back and relaxed. Soon they'd be gone, chasing their tails in a futile search for Patrick Jane and he'd be busy injecting more drugs into the man, making him a useless pile of human wreckage. What fun!


	15. Mementos of Death

I don't normally post two chapters in two days, but this weekend is going to be busy. Since this chapter is ready to go, I might as well get it out there and then continue next week. I hope it explains a lot more and fills in some big holes in the story for you.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 15

Mementos of Death

To David Litchfield the last 8 hours felt like a week. He had only spoken to Agent Cho this morning, early, and when he came back from Austin he had discovered that other FBI man in his Secure Unit, making his escape. What the hell was going on? Why was the FBI so focused on him all of a sudden? Fuck! At least Patrick Jane was sedated now and tripping on a cocktail of drugs worthy of a psychedelic road trip. Unfortunately, his plans to play with Jane's brain a bit longer before he killed him were compromised now after this latest visit from those two Agents from Austin. The attention from the FBI couldn't be ignored, and he had to vacate the country as soon as possible. Vengeance was a process, necessitating time and patience, neither of which he had anymore. He'd have to get out of here with his two captives and speed up his plans to kill them. Good thing he had made arrangements for another hiding place.

After Cho and Teresa left the Home, Dr. Litchfield returned to his office and opened his safe. The evidence in there would send him to the electric chair if discovered by the police, so he had to get the souvenirs of his kills out of the building today, now. He opened a large canvas bag and tossed everything inside. He had destroyed the cell phones of all of his victims but kept tokens of each person to prove to himself how smart and powerful he had become. Each one of those people had rejected him, one way or another, and he couldn't have that.

Susannah Moore, the nurse, had been too smart, had asked too many questions and would have eventually figured out he wasn't a real doctor. His lies to cover his methods had tipped her off that something was wrong at this hospital. She had to die. Stupid Bill Palley, the pharmacist, had known the real David Litchfield since he was a kid, and knew his father before him. The potential for him to figure out something wasn't right had proved too great. When the dispute over drugs that Dr. Litchfield ordered had caused Palley to question his identity, he had signed his own death warrant. Luring him to the baseball field had been easy, where they argued over the business account for the Home, then made up, swearing to be friends again. The Doctor sealed the deal by offering Bill Palley a "European" candy, which was really the cyanide capsule wrapped in chocolate. Once the man bit into it, death soon followed. A quick bashing with the baseball bat provided the cover Litchfield needed to escape scrutiny. Palley was draped over Home Plate for all the world to see, a victim of a horrible bludgeoning. No one would look farther into how he died as his pulverized skull seemed to indicate the cause of death. The Doctor went back to work, his problems with the pharmacist forgotten.

Poor Carrie Klein. He didn't know her at all, but she had made the mistake of recognizing him as David Litchfield that Sunday so many months ago. She had been waiting for a bus in Markdale after visiting the Nursing Home, when he drove by and stopped at a red light. She had knocked on his passenger side window, smiling and indicating he should roll the window down. He couldn't ignore her as she clearly thought she was seeing the real Dr. Litchfield. She was cute and curvaceous, so he rolled down the window and returned her 'hello'.

"Dr. Litchfield, so nice to see you again!" she had said, obviously knowing the man somehow.

"Yes, nice to see you again. What's new?" he had answered, hoping she'd reveal who she was and how she knew him.

"Oh, you know, busy at Nursing School. They keep you going night and day, but I love it. How are things at the Home since I left?" she said, giving him the information he needed.

"The same. Nothing much new. Just trying to keep everyone happy" he lied, seeing how she was sure he was the real Dr. Litchfield.

"Would I be able to come and visit the Home? I'm only here this weekend and then have to go back to school later tonight" she asked. "I'd love to see the place again."

The man behind the steering wheel had to make a snap decision, and he didn't want this girl to figure out he wasn't who she thought he was.

"Sure, hop in. We can go and have a stroll around the place. Care for a cold drink first, to catch up on news?" he asked, wanting to know this girl better for his own safety.

Blushing, Carrie accepted his offer and opened the door before traffic backed up behind his car. He drove to the other side of town and walked her into a dingy bar. While surprised he would take her here, the young woman trusted him implicitly, so said nothing. They sat in a booth and ordered drinks. He still didn't know her name.

"So tell me about life away from Markdale. Are you liking it at school?" he asked innocently.

Carrie nodded, happy to share her good news with her mentor.

"It's really intense, but I like being in a big city. There's so much to do and see when we get a bit of time off. I've made a lot of friends. There's another girl in my class whose name is also Carrie, so that can create some confusion. She's great. I made the right decision to go to nursing school after high school."

The man nodded and smiled, happy to know her name now. She was so malleable, so innocent and trusting. This would be fun.

"So Carrie, how long has it been since we last saw each other? Seems like it was just yesterday" he said, hoping to get her talking more about her association with 'Dr. Litchfield'.

"Well I worked at the Home my last two summers in high school, then I went away to college, so it's only been a year at the most" she explained.

So, she had worked for the real David Litchfield and still didn't realize she was talking to an imposter. Even better. Carrie sat back, stirring her drink, staring at the man she considered a mentor and a sterling example of good character. Although not the best of friends, Carrie had hit it off with the Doctor when she worked for him in high school, and now, he seemed different. Something was slightly off about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He smiled and joked and seemed like the David she knew, but there was something not quite right that niggled at her memory of him. She studied his hands and face, his hair and teeth. His hair was longer than he used to wear it. A small scar sat on his right hand, that was new. She watched him as he stirred his drink and slid the olive off the pick in his glass, swallowing it with obvious pleasure. They continued their small talk and she felt even more strongly that he had changed somehow. Then it hit her.

Dr. Litchfield had given up drinking years earlier. He had told her about it last year when the subject of drinking at college came up. He had stopped drinking to watch his weight and stay sharp. He also hated olives, passionately. What was going on? The man sitting opposite her picked up his glass with his left hand and took a long swig of his drink. Carrie looked startled.

"What?" he asked, seeing her grow red in the face.

"Nothing...nothing. It's just...I thought you were right handed" Carrie said uncertainly, not wanting to offend the Doctor.

"Nope, left handed" the man smiled, but the mirth didn't reach his dark eyes, which now studied the young woman a bit too intensely. Too many things didn't add up and Carrie suddenly felt freaked out. Why would a man who quit drinking bring her to a bar?

"Uh...I have to find the ladies room...be right back" Carrie announced, needing to get some air while she figured out what she did and didn't really remember about her old boss.

"Sure, it's back there" the Doctor indicated, seeing her discomfort.

She hurried away, casting a backward glance in his direction, which he took note of. That little bitch was too smart. She had figured something out, something he was doing wrong. What was it? He rolled the pick from his drink across the tabletop trying to decide what to do now. As the pick hit his glass, he remembered what she evidently already knew.

David hated olives. Carrie had watched him savour an olive and she knew the real David Litchfield couldn't and wouldn't eat them. Fuck! She was going to figure it all out! He reached into his pocket and dropped a pill into her glass and stirred it with his straw. When she came back he was finished his drink and was waiting for her so they could go. She took a long gulp of her drink and smiled at him, sure she was remembering things wrong. He regaled her with a funny story about a patient in the Home while she finished her drink, then he said it really was time to get going.

"Are you still interested in visiting the Home?" he asked.

The room was starting to sway slightly, embarrassing Carrie. Served her right, drinking on an empty stomach, now she was tipsy. She'd better just go home and take a nap before supper so her mother wouldn't give her a lecture.

"Ummm, actually, could you just drive me home to my parent's house?" she said, getting up unsteadily. She swayed slightly and gripped the table.

"Sorry, the drink is really hitting me" she apologized.

"Yeah, they were kind of strong" Dr. Litchfield agreed, taking her arm to help her walk out of there. "You OK though?"

"Sure, no problem...just ...whoa…" she said as the GHB really started to work its evil magic.

She leaned on his arm more heavily and looked forward to sitting down in the car. They walked slowly back to the vehicle and Carrie needed help getting inside the passenger seat.

Dr. Litchfield pulled her seatbelt across her lap as she leaned back with her eyes closed. A headache was starting to pound over her eyes.

"Are you feeling OK?" he asked with concern.

"Yes...no...just a big headache" she mumbled, trying to keep her eyes open.

The Doctor fished around in his pocket and pulled out a capsule. He gazed at it and knew it for what it was - his saviour.

"Here, chew on this. Guaranteed to make that headache go away instantly" he smiled as he handed it to her. Without even looking at the shiny glass pill, Carrie popped it into her mouth and bit down. A moment later, she was dead.

Standing in his office now all these months later, David sighed as he remembered the pretty girl he had to kill to keep his identity safe. She would have told someone that he wasn't really David Litchfield. The girl had to die.

The Doctor finished collecting his treasures and made sure the safe was empty before locking it again. He went through his secret passageway and emerged behind the Secure Unit, unseen by his staff. He ran to his car once again and threw the canvas bag into the trunk of his car. He had so much to do and not much time left before the Feds came knocking on his door once again.

(Hwy 722)

Cho was driving away from Markdale towards Austin when a call came in from Wylie. He put it on speaker so Teresa could hear whatever their youngest Agent had discovered at the police station.

"Wylie, what's happening with our suspect in jail?"

"He confessed. He says he did it! I questioned him about the girl he assaulted and he confessed, seemed proud of himself. Then I showed him the photo of Lynn Michaels and he said he had attacked her too. Cho, this guy might be our guy!"

Cho looked at Teresa in surprise. Was it over that quickly? Did Lynn's attacker really admit to two crimes with just a little nudge from the cops and Wylie? It was too easy.

"Did you ask him where Lynn is now? What he did with her?"

"Ummm, yes. He said he needed to finish what he started and that he kidnapped her and raped her, then threw her body in the dump outside Markdale. He said she's out there right now."

"What are the Markdale police doing to find her?"

"They have a team out at the dump right now digging around, looking for any sign of her."

"Did he reveal any details about the original attack in Markdale or what he did to her at her Aunt's house?"

"No, he clammed up when I asked questions that only the perp would know the answers to."

"So he could be grandstanding" Cho surmised.

"He could be, but why to confess to murder and assault? In Texas that can get you the death penalty" Wylie said in amazement. Who would do that?

"Do you believe the guy Wylie or is he just looking to be a headline?" Teresa asked, feeling it was all too simple.

"Hard to say. He seems pretty jacked up on being the suspect, happy to confess. Either he's the one or he's crazy. Either way, we have to follow the lead" Wylie answered.

He was right. If this guy was a rapist and a killer, Markdale would be a safer place tonight. If he was a liar, valuable resources were being wasted looking for a girl who wasn't at the landfill site.

"I want to find out everything there is to know about this guy. Get a team out to his place, speak to his friends and co-workers. Get on it will you Wylie?" Cho commanded him.

"Yes Sir."

"Lisbon and I will come to the Markdale PD and interview the guy before we go back to Austin tonight. Call me if anything new shakes loose."

"OK Cho."

"Now if we just could reach Jane our day would be looking up" Teresa said as the car turned around and headed towards Markdale once again.

Teresa felt relieved that at least the case concerning Lynn Michaels might have been cracked. Cho was going to reserve his judgement until he knew more.

She called her babysitter and explained she'd be later than she anticipated. Somehow the whole day was spinning out of control for both she and Jane.

(Litchfield Home - 6:30 p.m.)

Now that his travel plans were set and incriminating evidence was out of the Home, the Doctor jogged down to the kitchen, where he prepared a cup of coffee for Jane and one for the dark haired man. Into each cup he placed a dose of GHB, enough to knock his two 'patients' out quickly. Carrying the drinks on a tray, he unlocked the door to the Secure Unit when no one was there to see what he was up to, then stepped up to the first room, housing the dark haired young man. Dr. Litchfield waved the man away from the door, then he opened it and left the coffee on the floor, like usual.

"Drink up David, it's nice and strong, just the way you like it."

As soon as he left, the man greedily clasped the coffee mug and drank deeply, this being his only treat in an otherwise gloomy series of unending days locked up back here. Then the Doctor paced over to Jane's room and, searching for him through the window, unlocked the door cautiously. The drug from this morning would still be circulating in Jane's body but not nearly as powerfully as it had been hours ago, so he had to be careful. Jane was curled up on the bed, seemingly asleep, but David took pains to be watchful nonetheless. He placed the metal cup on the floor and as he backed up towards the door, yelled at Jane to rouse him.

"Coffee, drink up, it's the only thing you'll get today."

The door locked behind him as he returned to the hallway. He stood watching to see if Jane responded to the trap. Patrick had heard the man and was desperately cold and thirsty. It had been hours since he had anything to eat or drink. While coffee was a poor second choice compared to tea, it was hot and fresh, so he could hardly be picky. If indeed there was no food coming his way, at least he'd have something hot in his stomach. Maybe the caffeine would sharpen his thoughts too and help his remember how he got here. Jane straightened up and stood on wobbly legs, making his way over to the hot cup. The drink actually smelled wonderful and he grasped the warm sides of the container gratefully, relishing the heat. Taking a large swig of the coffee, it warmed his throat and insides as it made its way down to his stomach. Jane walked over to his bed and sat, cherishing this small comfort. Although he tried to make the coffee last, the warmth was too appealing and in five minutes his mug was empty. In seven minutes, he was out cold, sprawled across his bed. Across the hall, David, the real doctor, was also unconscious on his bed, his empty cup dropped onto the floor.

In an office tucked away around the corner, Fred looked at the clock and turned his TV off, straightened his desk and switched off his light. He walked down the hall and checked up on his patients. Taking one last look at the three men in their rooms, he was surprised to see all of them sleeping soundly in their beds. Good. They were safe and secure. He could go home and have a relaxing evening. He clocked out and headed to the front of the building to leave for the night.

The day staff had left much earlier leaving only Dr. Litchfield on the premises. Now he had to finalize his exit from this life. He ran down the hall and opened the locked door to the Secure Unit. The first man he went to was David, his cousin from his days at Med School. Grabbing a wheelchair, he dragged the limp man's thin body into the chair and wheeled him down the bright green hallway towards the back door. The car was close to the building and within five minutes, the unconscious man was safely strapped into the backseat.

Litchfield, or really, Mark Stockman, raced back inside and opened Jane's door. Hauling his considerably heavier body into the wheelchair, he ran down the hall with him, until he too was pulled into the backseat of the black car and securely fastened with a seatbelt. Both men were out cold, lolling against the side panels of the back doors. Now only the Conductor remained inside and Mark Stockman didn't give a shit about that old fart. The staff would find him in the morning, so he'd be OK and none the wiser about the events of the previous night.

Mark took one last run through the building, trying to remember every detail of his plan. Whatever he left behind in his room was unimportant now. He had already loaded his clothes and laptop into his trunk and that, along with his passport, was all he needed. He'd pick up money from various banks and ATMs over the course of the next day and be in the air flying to Vietnam before anyone could figure out just what the hell had happened back at the Home. Whenever Lynn Michaels' body was found, her death would remain mysterious, and in his mind, unconnected to the disappearances of Patrick Jane and Dr. David Litchfield.

(Turner County, West of Austin Texas - 7:00 p.m.)

Three college students were out looking for some cheap fun. This was their old stomping grounds, from back when they were kids in the country. Driving their pickup truck with a few cases of beer in the back they planned to drive out to an abandoned piece of land, sit under the stars, drink a few brews and mess around. Now if they had gotten lucky they could have brought some girls out here too, but they were unable to convince any of their friends at school to tag along. Smart girls. So the college boys set off for a guys night, hoping for some stupid fun. They turned off the main highway and took the backroads until they reached their destination, the old Murphy property. It had been sitting idle for as long as they could remember, but it was big, flat, perfect for dirt biking and kite flying in the summer, and best of all, there was a huge natural pond on the property. This time of year there might even be some pumpkins scattered around to shoot at with their BB guns.

The young men drove over the hard land and parked about 30 feet away from the edge of the ice cold pond. The sun was already down, but there was still enough light from their LED lanterns to enjoy some target practice. Sure enough, a few hardy pumpkins lay on the ground, sad and not really worthy of being Hallowe'en pumpkins, but perfect for shooting with BB's. The guys lined up the pumpkins, opened a case of beer, and settled down for some mindless fun.

By the time all of the pumpkins had been shot, multiple times by all of them, the first case of beer was finished and the second case was opened. The men had planned to stay for awhile, so a bag of nacho chips and dipping sauce was pulled out of the truck, along with a few other bags of junk food.

After more than an hour of drinking and horsing around, the beer hit bottom and the guys had to take a leak. Turning towards the pond, they ambled over and unzipped, standing in a row to see who could pee the farthest into the water. It was a game they had played since childhood and someday, they'd teach their boys the same idiotic routine too. One by one they turned back to their case of beer until only one young man remained by the pond, staring out into the dark water. Something large and curvy was out there, just below the surface of the water, he was pretty sure of it.

(Litchfield Home - 7 p.m.)

Mark Stockman, aka Dr. David Litchfield, locked the back door to the Home and raced over to his car. The men in the back seat where unaware of their surroundings and wouldn't cause him any problems. He pulled away and drove towards a location far off the highway about 50 miles from Austin. The place was a derelict old cement factory, with boarded up windows and rusted fencing all around. The enormous plant covered acres of land which was pockmarked with holes where the rocks had been blasted out of the soil to make the end product. The abandoned storage silos and long horizontal kiln that once had turned loose rocks into 'clinkers' or the beginnings of the cement, stood rusted and silent in the cool air. It looked like it no one had paid any attention to this facility for at least 10 years. Stockman could kill Jane and David and leave their bodies to rot here and no one would find them for years to come. By then, Mark would be long gone and well established as a doctor in Vietnam. Good luck finding him then.

He drove carefully, following the speed limit so as not to attract any attention to himself. Nearly an hour later he saw the building ahead and slowed down to open the gate at the back of the property. He had taken the liberty of cutting the lock open earlier that day on his way back from Austin, and now had free reign to come and go as he pleased. If he could stay hidden for the next 24 hours, he'd be a free man, his double life in the United States just a bitter memory. Killing his duplicitous cousin David would be the icing on a cake that had been baked many years ago when his education at Med school had been cut short. David was the reason Mark didn't graduate and become a doctor, so David had to pay the ultimate sacrifice.

(Markdale Police Station - 7:30 p.m.)

Cho and Teresa had grabbed some supper on the way into town and were now ready to speak to the young man, Brandon, who claimed to have kidnapped and killed Lynn Michaels. They were led to the holding cell downstairs at the small police station and found the man pacing his cell, snapping his fingers maniacally in time to a tune only he could hear.

"Brandon?" Cho called out through the bars. "Agent Cho, Austin FBI. This is Agent Jane. I understand you have something to tell us about some young women you attacked."

Brandon stopped his pacing and faced the bars. That young blond Agent who spoke to him earlier today hadn't seemed like a real FBI guy, but these two, they looked like Feds. He was interested.

"Yeah, I do. I did that girl, Lynn. She was a bitch and I killed her. Messed up that other girl too but she got away" he added, referring to the crime that had brought him to the attention of the police in the first place.

"Tell us about Lynn Michaels. Where did you first see her?" Cho began.

"At school. At college" he mumbled. "She's hot. Was hot."

"Were you friends?" Teresa asked.

"Yeah, you could say that. We dated for a while, until she dumped me for someone better looking, like most bitch women do" the young man barked angrily.

"OK, OK...so you had a relationship. Why attack her where you did? Why did you choose that spot?" Cho asked.

"I dunno...maybe it was convenient?" Brandon answered unhelpfully. Cho sighed and looked at Lisbon. This guy was lying through his teeth and wasting their time.

"Either it was convenient or it wasn't, which is it?" Cho needled him. "Tell me exactly how you attacked her, and where it happened."

Brandon stared at Cho and felt threatened. This isn't the way he imagined it would go. He figured the cops would have to treat him well, solicit his story, make him famous. Everyone would reap some glory. He turned his back on Cho and Lisbon and sulked. Who were these people to doubt him?

"I'm waiting Brandon" Cho said evenly.

"At night. I got her at night. It was dark and I grabbed her." Again, no details, just guessing.

"Where? In Markdale? In another county? Where did you attack her" Teresa pressed.

Nothing had been announced on the radio about Lynn's attack, nor her disappearance, so if this man had not attacked her, he would have no first hand knowledge of the facts. Cho had him backed into a corner.

"It doesn't matter where I got her, just that I killed her. When you find her body you'll know it was me. I did her and those other women too" the man boasted.

Cho needed to end this charade and get back to Austin. "I don't believe you did attack Lynn. I think you just want to be famous. You have no idea where Lynn was attacked or what happened to her" Cho goaded him, seeing how the man would react. Teresa had another idea.

While Brandon sat on his bunk sulking, Teresa whispered in Cho's ear and disappeared. When she returned a few minutes later, she had two glossy photos in her hand.

"I believe you did it Brandon. I think you killed Lynn, hurt that other girl, maybe even more women."

Brandon stood up and smiled at this attractive lady. Not enough women paid any attention to him, but now that he was important, the benefits were almost immediate.

"Yeah...there were lots more. Bodies all over the county. It'll take years to find them all" he boasted. Lisbon held out the two photos and showed them to Brandon.

"Maybe you can help me with another problem Brandon" she said nicely. "Here, look at these photos. These girls are also missing. Did you attack them? Kill them Brandon?"

Teresa handed him two the 8 x 10 black and white photos of attractive young women, and waited to hear his confession.

Brandon gazed at both women and smiled, happy to help once again.

"Sure did. Stupid bitches. They pulled some shit on me like all women do and I paid them back. It'll be a long time before you find their bodies' he smiled. "I guess that makes me a serial killer" he grinned, his newfound fame already going to his head.

Teresa turned to Cho and shook her head in disappointment, but not surprised.

"Well Brandon, you might have attacked someone, but I'm pretty sure you didn't attack Lynn Michaels or kill her. We're digging through the dump, but I bet we won't find a body out there."

"I killed her, and the others. If you're too stupid to understand that maybe someone should kill you too" Brandon screamed at Teresa.

Turning to her left, Teresa waved her hand and waited for two people to come around the corner. Two police women in t-shirts, minus their uniform shirts, came forward. The photos had been taken of them and blown up for Teresa to use as props.

"How can these women be alive if you killed them Brandon?" she asked, enjoying the stunned look on his face.

"Officers, add obstruction of justice to his charge of assault. He's not our killer" she said before she and Cho walked away.

Their visit had been a waste of time as Brandon was just an angry, unstable misogynist desperate for attention. The cops would take him to the hospital in Austin for a psychiatric evaluation, then charge him with assault and battery on a woman. Once upstairs, Cho found a quiet spot to check his emails while Lisbon called her babysitter to see how Anika was doing. She hoped she'd be home soon, with Jane beside her.

(The Pond)

"Hey! Hey guys! Come back and take a look. What is that out there?" Carl asked. His friends cat called with insults and told him he was just looking at an old fallen tree and to come back and have a beer for Chrissakes!

"No, really. Come and look, it's not a stupid tree!"

He was pointing to a spot a good 20 feet from shore, and sure enough, a large dark shadow lay just below the water, maybe 5 feet below the surface. It was hard to see just what it was as the light was minimal, casting deep shadows over the rough land. Taking a stone, Carl threw it at the spot he had located and listened for a ping. Nothing.

"Grab another flashlight outta the truck!" he yelled, intrigued by the mysterious blob under the water. His buddy Danny ran to retrieve the flashlight while his other friend stepped up beside him to try to see what he saw.

"I see it too...it's a dead elephant" his friend Luka teased, slapping him hard on the back.

"Shut up and help me figure this out!"

The flashlight appeared and Carl grabbed it, shining it into the murky water. Now more detail emerged.

"It's the back end of a car!" the man yelled in amazement. Who would drive a car into the pond, especially such a new one?

"Holy shit, no kidding!" Luka agreed. All of the students leaned forward to see better, until Danny jumped back and let out a scream.

"Oh fuck no...no no no…" he blithered.

"What? What did you see?" Carl asked, sure his friend was still pulling his leg. With a shaking finger, the younger man pointed to a spot right below the submerged bumper on the car.

"Look...is that ...what I think it is?" he asked with real fear in his voice.

The flashlight glowed on the water and there it was, the thing that had him so freaked out. Wrapped in weeds and ghostly white, a pale blue mottled foot lay nestled up against the bumper of the car.

"Oh Jesus! It's a foot! Oh God a foot!" someone screamed.

As one the group stepped back in horror as the reality of this discover began to sink in.

"We gotta call the cops guys!' the youngest of the men proposed, with no one arguing against his idea.

A cell phone was pulled out and Carl, the unofficial leader of this group of students, punched in 911, calling in their discovery. Someone had to take control before everyone fell apart in panic.

Luka looked around and saw the mess they had created all around the pond.

"Gather up the empty beer bottles and clean up around here. The cops will be here any minute now and we don't want to get into trouble!"

The young men scurried around, glad to have something physical to do to stay occupied before all hell broke loose. Soon flashing lights across the field heralded the arrival of the police, fire/rescue and an ambulance. As the police questioned the college boys, the fire department set up large lights, shining them onto the black pond. A heavy truck unspooled a cable which police divers attached to the back of the car in order to pull it out of the pond. They worked carefully as the body was snagged onto the car by something and could not be retrieved until the car was set free. As the license plate became easier to read, it was typed into the onboard computer in the police cruiser. It only took a few minutes before the officers discovered whose vehicle had been found. A BOLO had only just been issued that afternoon regarding this car, and now it had been located in suspicious circumstances. An officer called it in to headquarters, starting a chain reaction of activity. In Markdale, the police Captain listened to the report and knew who he had to speak to next.


	16. Shrouded in Death

Dead Ringer

Chapter 16

Shrouded in Death

(Markdale Police Station)

Teresa finished her call to the babysitter and strolled back to the car with Cho beside her. As soon as they started to drive away, Cho's cell phone rang again.

"Sorry, gotta take this" he apologized, knowing Teresa wanted to get back to Austin. Cho pulled over to take the call.

"It's the Markdale Police Captain" he told Teresa as he read the call display.

The Captain had just spoken to a police officer on scene at the pond, and had been informed about the discovery of Jane's car. He conveyed this news to Cho along with the worse news that a dead body was trapped under the car. Cho blanched as the ramifications of this development hit him. Lisbon watched Cho's face as he took the message, and judging by the way his eyes flew up to meet hers, she knew instantly it was bad news. Cho spoke in hushed tones then ended the call, pocketing his phone.

"What is it Cho?"

Cho looked out of his front window, unseeing, his mind reeling. How was he going to tell her? He cleared the lump out of his throat.

"Lisbon" he said, reaching out for her arm.

"What?" she said quietly, feeling panic begin to rise in her gut. "What is it? Cho...you're scaring me."

Her oldest friend looked away, then turned back to face her, his demeanor solemn.

"Teresa, some local college kids found Jane's car" he began before Teresa cut him off.

"Finally! That's good news! Where did he go?"

Cho tried again to tell her the terrible news.

"Teresa, they found Jane's car at the bottom of a pond the next County over, buried nose deep in the weeds and mud. They called the police and local cops ran the plates. They confirmed the car belongs to Patrick. They're working to raise it out of the water as we speak."

Teresa looked like she'd been punched. The story Cho told her just didn't compute. She took a moment to process his words, afraid of what he might say next.

"Where's Jane Cho? What else did the Captain tell you?"

Bitinging his lip, Cho couldn't find a way to mince words, so he had to just come out with it.

"They also found a body under the car" Cho said gently, hating to be the one to break the news to Teresa. Her reaction was immediate and intense. Teresa opened the car door and started to pace along the side of the road, shaking her head in disbelief.

"No! No...it isn't him Cho, it can't be Patrick…not this way...not now!" she shouted in anger.

"Teresa, please...we don't know everything yet, but until the body is rescued, we have to assume it's Patrick. I'm so sorry" he said.

Teresa kept pacing as she refused to accept what Cho was telling her. No damned way was this true. No. Not possible.

"Lisbon, please…" Cho said quietly, putting his hand out for hers. His touch was all it took to break her. Her pacing stopped and Teresa collapsed into his arms weeping. Putting his arms around her slim shoulders, Cho felt the weight of her sorrow added to his own. He hoped to God all of this was a terrible mistake, but all signs pointed to Jane's accidental death. Or murder.

Cho held onto Lisbon until her shaking ceased. When she had composed herself, Cho guided Teresa back to their car and sat with her. Staring off into the distance, her mind was busy with thoughts too dark to say out loud. Cho gave her as much time as she needed to process this news, and waited for her to make the next move. When she wiped the tears off her face, she turned to him, determination setting in to banish grief.

"We have to go there Cho. We have to be there, in case it's Jane. In case it's not Jane" she said with hope.

"Of course. We can be there soon" Cho agreed. If in fact Jane had drowned, they would have to identify the body, so no matter what, Teresa had to be there.

"Is the car out of the pond yet?" she asked.

Cho shook his head, no. "They're having to be very careful raising the car because the body is somehow ensnared underneath it" Cho told her truthfully.

"Oh God no…."Teresa buried her face in her hands as that image ran through her mind.

What if this was the end, the last of Jane's nine lives? A life without him was impossible to imagine. She felt sure he couldn't have drowned, she would have known he died, would have somehow felt his absence from this earth...she was sure of it. She sat in stunned silence as Cho drove on, waging his own private battle against tears at the thought that Patrick Jane was finally dead.

(The Pond)

Cho saw the activity across the field as he and Lisbon arrived at the Murphy property. A large hoist on the back of a heavy truck was winching a car out of the water inch by inch as divers waited in the frigid water below, ready to cradle the dead body and cut it free of its bonds. A young cop had set up a roadblock to keep gawkers away, and officiously waved Cho's SUV away. Cho leaned out of his driver's window and flashed his FBI ID, and was immediately granted entry to the field. Cho gunned the engine and tore across the ground, pulling up a mere 15 feet from the water's edge. A cop came over to shoo him away, but Cho flashed his ID again and pushed past the young officer. Teresa followed, distraught at what she saw unfolding in slow motion in front of her.

There was their family car, a child's car seat in the back, covered in weeds and heavy mud, water pouring out of every crack and opening in the vehicle. With the tail end of the car high in the air, it looked like a large dead beetle swaying in the wind. A shroud wrapped body was becoming visible as the police divers cut the ropes ensnaring it under the car. The ghostly blue-white, swollen foot stuck out of the end of the package.

"Teresa, don't watch" Cho said, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her around, away from the pond.

"Cho I…" she began to argue but he would have none of it. If that was Jane out there, white and frozen and dripping with foul water, she shouldn't see it.

"No...you can't see that" he said firmly, like a father to a stubborn child. '"Wait over here, please Teresa" he said as he signalled a cop to come and stay with her. He exchanged a few words with the officer and the other man nodded, understanding what was going on.

"Agent? Please, come with me and get warmed up. We'll let you know just as soon as we have recovered the victim's body" he said gently.

Teresa nodded numbly, and went with him, afraid to turn back and look at the ghastly scene, and afraid not to. This was like a horror movie playing out in real life and she and her husband were the starring characters. And Jane wasn't her husband now, he was officially the victim. Just thinking that word felt like a betrayal of her dynamic soul mate. Cho walked over to the edge of the pond, his heart aching with dread. What had Jane uncovered that was so bad it had led to this? He stood with his arms folded tightly around his body, an unconscious attempt to console himself against the coming storm if this all went to hell in the next few minutes. He turned to check on Lisbon, but she was sitting in the back of the ambulance, a hot coffee clutched between two shaking hands. A paramedic sat quietly beside her, ready to go into action if this woman fell apart.

Turning his attention back to the activity at the pond, Cho saw the car suddenly swing in a wide arc towards land, water flying out of a broken front window. The crowd dispersed as the hoist began to lower the vehicle onto the hard ground. The two police divers now resurfaced holding a canvas wrapped body between them, as other officers laid a heavy black vinyl body bag out on the ground, ready to receive its occupant. The body was wrapped in an old grey tarp, a rope twisted tightly around the slim form. The face and body were only barely distinguishable by the shape pressed up against the wet cloth. With a maddeningly slow pace the divers made their way over to the shallower waters where they handed the body over to two other officers. Cho stood transfixed as the men laid the body down inside the bag, then carefully unwrapped the canvas away from the face. Hair dark with mud and water lay splayed out over the cloth, the face, blue and ghastly, with purple lips and staring dead eyes. It was like all dead bodies, horrendous. But Cho saw something important immediately.

It was a female.

He took a step forward to make sure, and saw that without doubt, it was a young woman, in her early 20's, still wearing her comfy lounge clothes. Without DNA confirmation, Cho was pretty sure he knew who it was. Lynn Michaels had finally been found.

"Lisbon!" Cho waved, calling her over. "It's not Jane!" he said, both joyous that his friend wasn't dead, and sickened instead by the death of this young person.

"Not Patrick?" Lisbon cried, leaping up and running over to join her friend. Almost afraid to look in case Cho was wrong, she finally peered down into the puffy, water swollen face of the young woman.

"Is it Lynn Michaels?" she asked.

Cho nodded. "We'll get forensics to confirm, but yes, I think so."

Teresa didn't stay to watch anymore. Instead, she walked away slowly, her hands over her heart. Her husband wasn't dead. She felt like she had aged 20 years in the last half hour, but a weight had been lifted off her heart and now she could breathe again. Ten minutes later Cho found her sitting in his car, gazing at a photo of Patrick and Anika. A smile creased her face as Cho turned on the engine to warm them both up.

"I thought Anika had lost her father today Cho" she said softly.

"But she didn't Teresa, and she won't, not if we can help it."

Teresa reached out and squeezed Cho's arm, so grateful for his strength and love, because that's what it was.

"Ready to go home?" he asked, suddenly exhausted himself.

"Yes. Anika needs me."

"Ok, we'll get there as fast as possible. We have a large group of local cops and agents out looking for Jane. No one will stop looking until they find him" Cho assured Teresa.

"Thanks Cho." Teresa put her head back and closed her eyes in relief. Jane was still alive, she felt sure of it. It was a small victory, but for now, it was all she had to hold onto.

(Blanchard Cement Factory)

The black car blended in with heavy evening traffic heading towards the town of Blanchard, an hour away from Markdale. The town itself was nothing much, just a worn out former hub of ranching and commerce. It's allure these days was its relative safety from crime and the highly anticipated arrival of a new suburb and mall complex. Money was flowing into the area, revitalizing the townsfolk and investors alike. Mark Stockman had passed through this quiet town often as a youth and University student, and knew its dirty little back alleys and abandoned factories. An old cement factory sat at the back edge of town, one of the last areas slated to be torn down and revitalized in this economic upturn. He and his buddies used to come here and pitch rocks at the huge storage silos left behind when the business closed down. This was a place that no one ever thought about anymore, much less visited. That made it the perfect burying ground for his two 'patients'.

Inside the car, Jane was vaguely aware of movement as the car tore down the road, but he was so out of it he couldn't open his eyes and raise his head. His brain couldn't process the sounds and smells of his journey, much less remember how he had gotten into this mess in the first place. He was a lamb to the slaughter until the GHB cleared out of his system. David was even more deeply sedated.

Once outside the cement plant, Mark stopped to unlock a gate in the endless fencing, then drove to a building at the back of the property, parking his car in an alcove behind the abandoned facility. Anyone driving by would be unable to see his vehicle as the factory sat so far back on the huge parcel of land, so he had the advantage of being able to move the real Doctor Litchfield and Patrick out of the car and into the building without detection.

He raced around the car and up onto the loading dock, intent on opening the large back door. The lock was rusty and stubborn, requiring some work before it would cooperate and swing open. As it finally screeched open, Mark ran inside a large room and lit a battery powered lamp, its cold blue light illuminating the dusty, dirty space. Then he carried it farther inside and opened a heavy door on the back wall, a good 30 feet away from the loading dock. He had brought some supplies out here 24 hours ago, after he captured Patrick Jane and realized it was time to flee the States.

Stockman ran back outside and dragged his skinny cousin out of the car and up onto the loading dock. From there he lifted him over his shoulder and carried him inside to a chair that had been put into the centre of the second room. The heavy oak office chair was covered in cobwebs and dust, and when he plunked the unconscious man down in the chair, a cloud of dust rose up to the rafters. He produced zip ties and secured the man's wrists to the arms of the chair. That done, he ran outside again and hauled Jane out of the car. He was much better fed and heavier, so getting him inside was a more laborious process. After lifting and dragging Jane through the first room, he pulled him to the second chair he had placed in the middle of the room and put Jane in the hard chair, securing him with zip ties as well. Now both men sat side by side, out cold and oblivious to their tenuous situation.

Stockman stood back grinning as he opened a cooler chest and took a beer out, ripping the tab off and drinking deeply. He felt like an omnipotent God. Everything he had ever wanted had come to pass. He had come back to the U.S. a little over a year ago and had displaced his treasonous cousin, imprisoning him in his own hospital. The two of them had grown up together, and looked so alike everyone mistook them for twins. He had even lived with the Litchfield family for years after his own parents divorced. While it had irked Mark as a kid to be mistaken for David's twin, now it worked to his advantage. They were mirror images of each other. One good, one evil. While one was right handed, the other favoured his left hand. One parted his hair on the right, the other, on the left. One drank heavily, the other had given it up completely. Most importantly, David had been studious, and excelled in University, then medical school, graduating near the top of his class. The other cousin, Mark Stockman, cheated his way into University, continued to cheat and lie his way through, year after year, assuming he could do the same in medical school without being caught.

His luck ran out in his final year, when enough of the students had figured out he was a fraud and was taking up a valuable space when internships were allotted after they graduated. So several of them reported what they had figured out to the Dean of Students and the Head of the medical school. Mark was expelled, but he always assumed it was because his goody goody cousin David had betrayed him. He was wrong, but there was no way David could ever convince him of that. Mark was going to kill David for his treachery, and that nosey FBI agent Patrick Jane. Now that Jane had discovered the secret closet behind the armoire, he would rat out Mark to the cops and have him arrested for the attempted rape of that Michaels girl. Too bad she would never be able to identify him, not from the bottom of a deep dark pond. It was only a matter of time before someone at the FBI worked out that he had also killed those other three people. By the time the FBI did though, he'd be long gone and Jane would be a rotting pile of bones.

He sat and drank his beer studying the poor saps who were tied to the chairs in the filthy room and couldn't help but laugh. Who was the smart one now? As soon as his beer was finished, Mark planned to head into the small town of Blanchard to withdraw the maximum amount of money possible from David Litchfield's bank account. Another account had also been set up under Mark's real name, and he would drain that as well. Between this evening and tomorrow night, he planned to take as much money as possible out of the bank and then flee the country. Hiding the money from border guards would be his next big challenge, but he had done this before, when on the run across the globe, so he was sure he would get away with it again. His sense of invincibility was boundless.

(Austin Texas)

Teresa arrived at her home thanks to Cho, and encouraged her babysitter to sleep over in the guest room. She tiptoed into Anika's room and watched her baby sleep, her beautiful face glowing in the nightlight by the bed. Teresa took her small hand and stroked it, saying a prayer to her God that Patrick was somewhere safe, warm and unhurt. Tomorrow she needed him to be back beside her. Beyond that, she just wouldn't allow herself to contemplate the alternative. Eventually her eyes began to droop, and Teresa quickly got ready for bed, curling up on Jane's side of the bed, hugging his pillow, inhaling his cologne which permeated the cool cotton pillowcase. Sleep descended like a balm, but her dreams were full of chaos and longing for the man who just might not ever come home again.

(Bank of Texas, Blanchard Texas - Midnight)

Jane and David were sleeping off their date rape drug, unaware of the change in their location and status. When they awoke, a whole new world of pain awaited them.

Mark Stockman grew bored watching over Jane and his cousin David, and feared he'd get so drunk he wouldn't be able to drive into town to withdraw money from the bank before dawn. So he stopped drinking and got into his car, using the dark of night to hide his identity in case the local cops were looking for him. He pulled up to the banking machine on the street corner in sleepy downtown Blanchard. Within five minutes he had taken as much money out of David Litchfield's account as the bank would allow. Then he did the same with his own account, set up under his own name. Now he had some travelling money. Next he went to an all-night drive through and ordered a hamburger, large coffee to stay alert and fries. Who knew when he'd get food like this again once he got to Vietnam? By the time he was finished eating his food, he had arrived back at the factory, eager to see if his captives were finally awake.

(Blanchard Cement Factory - 1 a.m.)

Jane was freezing and sore all over. Befuddled by the GHB and the remnants of the hallucinogen administered early the previous day, he opened his eyes in a brand new place. Try as he might, he couldn't sort out where he was and why he was only wearing his boxers. A dim flashlight glowed off to one side of the room, bathing the dusty space in shadows. Craning his neck, Jane spotted another man next to him, also tied to his chair and still deeply sedated. Trying to flex his arms, Jane spied the zip ties binding him and felt a surge of panic, realizing that no matter where he was, he hadn't come here voluntarily. He tried to loosen his bonds but only succeeded in cutting into the skin on his wrists. Both men seemed to be alone in this strange place. Who brought them? Shaking his head as if to throw out his murky thinking, Jane tried to arrange his memories into some semblance of order. What did he clearly remember? The first image he saw was Angela's face. She was dead, had been for a long time, along with his beautiful Charlotte. Why did his brain go there first? Think think think…..

Lisbon. Her face shone brightly in his mind, encouraging him, giving him strength. Then he saw Anika, playing with her dolls by the kitchen table. That memory felt fresh, recent. Where had he gone today, or yesterday? How long ago had he left home and his family? Hungry beyond words, he knew it had to be a long time ago. Thinking of food, he remembered drinking a rich hot coffee. Coffee...why would he drink that when he had all the tea in the world to choose from? Sighing in frustration, he tried to pull memories out of his memory palace that were damaged, distorted and deformed by drugs. No wonder he couldn't fathom his situation.

"Hello?" he called out, sure someone had to be there keeping watch over them. His voice echoed in the large space but no one answered. "Show yourself!' he yelled, to no avail. The air smelled like dust and building materials, like...cement. Was he in a cement making factory? Lisbon must be frantic by now he realized, and this transformed his worry into anger. What was he working on, what case?

A moan next to him diverted his attention away from his own frustrations. The man beside him moved his head and coughed.

"Wake up!" Jane shouted. The man continued to sleep, the drug taking longer to leave his thin body. Jane tried to scoot his chair over to the man but it was so heavy and big he couldn't move it. Another snort from the man made Jane shout again.

"Wake up and talk to me!" he screamed. The man jolted in his chair and opened his eyes, groggy and confused and just as cold as Jane. He looked out into the darkened room and panicked when he felt his arms tied down to the armrests.

"Hello" Jane said evenly, waiting for the man to notice him.

"Hello…" David said tentatively. "Who are you? Where are we?"

"Well it's taken me a while to figure out, but I'm Patrick Jane, FBI Consultant. And I have no idea where we are but it smells like cement powder in here."

The other man just nodded and let that sink in. The smell in the room was familiar to him. He'd been here before, he was pretty sure of it.

"I'm David Litchfield, Dr. Litchfield" he introduced himself. "Did Mark do this to us?"

"Mark?"

"Yes, my cousin, Mark Stockman. He took over my Psychiatric Home almost a year ago, took me prisoner and loaded me up with drugs to keep me quiet. Since no one has rescued me, I figure he fired all my staff and rehired, so no one knows he's impersonating me."

Jane studied the man's face and yes, he remembered Dr. Litchfield now, but it was the fake Doctor he recalled. He had been investigating him...regarding three murders...found some incriminating items….disguises…

It all came back to him in a rush of images and memories. But how did he end up half naked and tied to a chair? Of that, he had no memory. The last thing he remembered was being thrown to the ground by a big man, an orderly, who held him while a needle pierced his arm. After that, everything was murky and a swirling mish-mash of images, some terrifying, most heartbreaking.

"I think your cousin drugged me a few days ago...or maybe yesterday, not sure" Jane guessed out loud. "I've been investigating him for the deaths of three people in Markdale. I found disguises in a hidden closet in his bedroom. I couldn't get out before he caught me in the Secure Unit, and now, here I am."

"Grandpa had hidden doors and secret passageways built into his house, and a cubby hole behind his armoire in his bedroom. That's where Mark must have kept things he didn't want the cops to find" David explained, understanding even more about his cousin now.

"I found a hidden door in his office, and a stash of beards and wigs. When the FBI matches those items to his DNA, we'll have him for an attempted rape" Jane informed David.

"Attempted rape? What the hell has Mark done?" David asked, shocked to hear what his cousin had been up to.

"Evidence suggests he tried to kidnap and perhaps rape a young college student. She's in hiding now but with the props I found in Mark's room, I think we have enough to arrest him" Jane explained. David always knew Mark had a cruel streak, but to use it against innocent people in the community was a revelation.

The Doctor studied Patrick and could see that he was cold and suffering the after-effects of being drugged. His natural inclination was to care for him.

"How are you feeling Patrick?" David asked, worried, as a Doctor would be after someone was treated so badly.

"Cold, hungry, groggy. Whatever Mark gave me sent me back in time more than 10 years. It wasn't a good trip" Jane said with understatement.

"I'm sorry you got involved with my family" David apologized. "Mark is crazy, certifiable, I think. Whatever he's done is probably just the tip of the iceberg. He's only kept me around to sign papers as David Litchfield and to make my life hell."

"Seems like he succeeded" Jane agreed. Gazing around the room, he felt unsure that he could manage to free himself or David. "Is this a cement factory?"

"Yes, Mark and I used to hang out here when we were teenagers, getting into trouble. I even worked here one summer. I'm not surprised Mark left us here. No one will think to look for us in Blanchard."

"Where do you think Mark is now?" Jane asked, sure the man would return.

"No idea...sleeping somewhere warm?" David joked, but it wasn't at all funny.

"When he comes back, we need to make him think he's in control. Can you act sleepy when he comes back, like the drugs have screwed up your brain? Jane suggested, not sure how he would use that ruse to his advantage, but short on any other ideas.

"Yeah...I've been crazy from drugs for months now...what's another day or two?" David agreed. Before Jane could respond, the sound of a heavy door sliding open warned them that Mark had returned.

"Sleep!" Jane whispered to David, as they both dropped their heads onto their chests and pretended to still be under the influence of the GHB.


	17. Introducing Mark Stockman

Thank you to all my new readers. It's nice to be favourited! Since it's ready and driving some of you crazy, here's another chapter!

Dead Ringers

Chapter 17

Introducing Mark Stockman

(Blanchard Cement Factory - 1:15 a.m.)

Mark sauntered over to the two men tied to their chairs and stared at them, impatient with them. He wasn't going to kill them while they slept. He needed them awake and afraid, to make the most of his power over them in their final hours of life. He walked to a small office at the side of the room and unwrapped a sleeping bag onto a rollout bed. Now he could finally relax before he left the USA for good. He stretched out and closed his eyes under the warm blanket, not the slightest bit concerned for the discomfort of the two men only a few feet away from him. In the morning, he'd have his final playtime with them, then disappear. He could only grin with pleasure at the idea that he was smarter than anybody else he'd ever met. When his snores alerted Jane and David that he was asleep and harmless, they opened their eyes and quietly made plans to try to save their lives when he awoke.

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home - 8 a.m.)

The Home was a whirl of activity. The first staff had arrived at 6:00 a.m. and began their day with their patients, helping them with baths and breakfast. Fred had arrived at 7:30 and was finishing his breakfast in the dining room, expecting to see the Doctor soon. Soon Dr. Litchfield would descend from his apartment and let Fred know what he wanted him to do this morning. Then, Fred would make sure the three men in the back of the building were awake and ready to eat some breakfast. Dr. Litchfield was strict about what he let his patients eat, and Fred never questioned him. After all, he was the expert. By 8:30, the Doctor still had not come downstairs and Fred wondered what to do. He asked Mrs. Rogers to call the Doctor and ask if Fred could give the men their food without the Doctor overseeing it.

Mrs. Rogers dialed the Doctor's private number and heard it ring and ring. After no one picked up, she just shrugged and told Fred to figure it out for himself. Maybe Dr. Litchfield was sleeping late? Had gone out? Fred went out and checked the parking lot but discovered that the Doctor's black car was missing. Now he felt a bit more concerned. This wasn't like the man, to leave and not instruct Fred for the day. Fred went to the kitchen and got a food cart, then got a breakfast ready for all three men, hoping he was doing the right thing. He entered the Secure Unit and stopped by the first door, knocking to rouse the patient. There was no response. He put his hand on the door to look in and was shocked when the door gave way, opening without a key. Fred stepped inside and almost dropped the food tray. The dark haired man was gone! Shaking with worry, Fred ran over to the new man's room. He looked for James Bond and couldn't see him either. Maybe he was still cowering in the corner. Again he put his hand on the doorknob and was amazed that the door gave way and opened. That room was empty too!

Now Fred hurried down to the Conductor's room and sighed with relief when the old man looked up at him, waving his hands in frustration. He wanted his breakfast. Fred opened the door carefully and dropped the tray on the floor before he slammed the door shut again. What the hell was going on? He ran back to the main building and dashed up the front staircase leading to the Doctor's private apartment. He needed to tell the man his patients were missing, if he was there. After knocking on the Doctor's door repeatedly, he got no answer. Now Fred was in a panic. What to do?

He ran downstairs and asked Mrs. Rogers where the Doctor had gone, but she was no help at all. He ran to the main hospital and found the Head Nurse, informing her that two patients appeared to be missing. Within five minutes, a general alarm had been raised. None of the nurses were familiar with the men in the back, just the way the Doctor had wanted it, but all were agreed that this was highly unusual. By 9 a.m. the Head Nurse made a decision, and called the police. Within ten minutes, the Home was surrounded by flashing blue and red lights, upsetting the patients and putting the staff on edge. Fred was terrified it was all a misunderstanding and that the Doctor would walk in, furious at their foolishness. Maybe he had transferred the patients to another hospital, Fred reasoned.

Upon their arrival, Markdale Police officers questioned the staff in the Home and when they got no good answers concerning the disappearance of two patients and their doctor, they put a call in to Cho at the FBI. Things in Markdale were spiralling out of control. With the newly recovered body of Lynn Michaels and the discovery of the FBI agent's car, something big was happening right under their noses.

(FBI Austin, Texas - 8 a.m.)

Cho arrived early and got right down to work, hoping Wylie had some useful research to share with him concerning the Litchfield family and also the backgrounds of the murder victims in Markdale. A clue was there, it just had to be shaken loose. On his desk was a forensic report regarding the beard fragment, as well as a note regarding the sticky substance Jane had put his finger in on Dr. Litchfield's desk. The beard had enough DNA on it under the dirt and gravel that could be used to identify a suspect. The sticky substance on David Litchfield's desk was spirit gum, the actual glue used to attach a beard to the face. Cho shook his head, frustrated that the man they had visited twice was now their #1 suspect. The glue Jane had touched sealed the deal as far as Cho was concerned. Another visit to the Home was in order, with backup.

Teresa had left Anika with her babysitter, who would make sure the child got to school on time. Hurrying up to the Bullpen, she hoped Cho had some good news for her this morning. As she stepped off the elevator, she met Wylie as he came out of the small employee kitchen.

"Morning!" he said brightly. "Any news on Jane?"

"I was hoping you could tell me" Teresa answered, looking despondent.

Wylie kicked himself for opening that can of worms first thing in the day. "Sorry, no, not yet, but I did some research from home last night and I think I have something that might open the case up" he said, hoping it would lead to Jane's rescue.

"I'll get Cho and then you can show both of us" Teresa said, hurrying down the hall to his office. While there, Cho informed her about the results of the forensic testing. The noose was tightening on their main suspect. A couple of minutes later, they were at Wylie's desk looking at his computer screen.

"What have you got Jason?" Cho asked.

Wylie smiled and faced his laptop. "Well, I've been researching all of the families of the people murdered in Markdale, looking for something beyond the typical family connections and work, etc etc." he began.

"And?" Cho said, keeping him on course.

"And, that led nowhere. Then I dug into Dr. David Litchfield's family. There was a lot there but nothing stood out that was odd or unusual. Then I decided to look at his days at University and Medical School, which led me to this…" he said, opening a page showing a photograph of a bunch of students in white lab coats.

"What are we looking at Jason?" Teresa asked. She saw Litchfield standing with a bunch of his fellow students.

"Look at this guy, at the back of the group" Jason said, pointing to a dark haired man. "Doesn't he look exactly like Dr. Litchfield?"

Cho and Lisbon leaned in and studied the face, then looked at the other man in the front row. Except for longer hair on one, and a side part on the other side of his head, this man looked exactly like David Litchfield!

"Who is he?" Cho asked.

"That is Mark Stockman, David Litchfield's cousin, according to some notes on another page of the student journal. They both went to the same Medical School."

Teresa ran to her desk and took out the photo that Jane had brought in to Wylie to blow up.

"It's the same two boys, but grown up!" she said in wonder. "This isn't a photo of brothers, but cousins!"

"When did Mark Stockman graduate and where is he now?" Cho asked, sensing that this was another important breakthrough.

"I looked everywhere online but it appears that Mark did not complete his last year of Med school. Apparently there was some kind of scandal and he was expelled just before he graduated. He accused his cousin David of turning him in and it was the talk of the hospital based on comments left in the yearbook that year. He left the U.S. soon after he was expelled, but according to border security, he returned about a year ago" Jason said.

Cho and Teresa let this information sink in. David had a lookalike cousin, who was almost a doctor, all but for a few weeks more of classes. The cousin had a grudge against the Doctor that could be exploited. They needed to speak to Dr. Litchfield immediately. Cho's cell phone rang while Teresa spoke to Jason, thanking him for his good work. When Cho hung up he called her over.

"That was the Police in Markdale. It seems Dr. Litchfield didn't show up for work today and no one knows where he is" he said.

"Crap!" Teresa huffed, afraid he was on the run.

"Two of his most seriously ill patients are missing too" Cho said, handing Teresa her jacket. "An orderly named Fred Corman raised the alarm, worried that there was no one in charge. Let's go."

Once in the car, Teresa asked Cho why Fred Corman had not been with the whole group of employees when they had asked the Doctor to assemble his staff the last time they visited the Home.

"No idea, maybe Fred can tell us."

"Even if Litchfield is our guy, why would two of his sickest patients be missing as well? There's something going on at the Home Cho, none of this feels right" Teresa said, trusting her gut instincts.

"We'll find out soon enough."

Cho sped away, hoping the man waiting for them in Markdale would have another piece of the puzzle that would lead them to finding Patrick Jane.

(Litchfield Psychiatric Home - 9: 15 a.m.)

Lisbon and Cho arrived amidst the general confusion of rubberneckers trying to see inside the facility and parked next to a police car at the side of the building. Showing their FBI ID, they met with no resistance when they entered the Home. Spotting a Senior Officer, Cho and Lisbon approached him to find Fred, the orderly. This was someone they hadn't met before, when they demanded to speak with everyone.

"Agent Cho, Agent Lisbon, thanks for coming. Fred...is over there, working with the residents until more staff arrive. We expect another nurse to show up soon to take over."

"Thank you" Lisbon said, before turning to walk over to the orderly. A nurse stood next to him consoling a frightened patient. They had their hands full.

"Fred?" Lisbon said, showing the man her badge.

"Yes Ma'am?" he said, thinking she was a cop.

"Fred, I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane with the Austin FBI, and this is Senior Agent Kimball Cho. We'd like to ask you some questions about Dr. Litchfield."

Fred looked at their FBI badges and felt scared. This was all too much for a simple guy like him. Why wasn't the Doctor here to help him out?

"Is there some place quiet we can sit and talk?" Teresa asked Fred, seeing how frazzled he was. If the man was going to be of any use to them he had to relax.

"Ahhh...maybe the Receptionist's office?" he suggested, showing them the hallway. Lisbon had already been there with Jane, so she knew the way. Once there, Cho hustled a disgruntled Mrs. Rogers out and shut the door. Fred sat down on the guest chair, while Cho and Lisbon stood on either side of him.

"How long have you worked here Fred?" Cho asked him. The Doctor had lied about everyone being present the other day when the photos of Lynn and Jane were passed out.

""Oh...about 10 months now I guess."

"Did Dr. Litchfield hire you himself?"

"Yes. He needed someone to help with the male patients and the real heavy cases in the Secure Unit."

"We understand you alerted the staff about the missing patients?" Teresa prodded him.

"Yes I did. There's no way they could have opened those doors by themselves. They lock from the outside."

"You couldn't locate the Doctor first thing this morning. Do you think he left sometime last night?"

Fred had already thought about that issue. "I checked with all of the staff, and no one saw the Doctor's car out front when they got to work today. So, yeah, maybe he wasn't even here last night."

"Is it normal for the Doctor to leave his patients unattended like this Fred?" Cho asked.

Fred swivelled his attention back and forth between his two inquisitors. "No! Absolutely not! There's always someone here, night and day!"

"Apparently not Fred" Cho said somberly. "Can you guess why Dr. Litchfield would leave the Home with no one to replace him for the evening?"

Fred shook his head in consternation. None of this made any sense at all.

"No Agent. He lives here so he's always around, and if he has to go out, I stay later and keep watch until he gets back, then he sends me home."

"But not last night" Lisbon said.

"No...not last night" Fred echoed lamely.

"Did anything unusual happen here lately? Anyone odd show up or make a scene?" Cho asked.

"Nossir...everything was just as normal as normal can be. We did get a new patient the other day and had to put him in the Secure Unit for his own safety, but other than that, nothing else happened that I recall."

"Have you checked on all of the patients since you came back today?" asked Lisbon.

"Of course! And everyone single one of them is here and accounted for. They're all pretty upset, but what can you do?" Fred assured them. He took his job very seriously.

Lisbon stared out of the window in thought. Then she turned back to Fred with a new question.

"You said you checked and everyone is accounted for."

"Yes Ma'am, that's right. Except for the two missing patients in the Secure Unit."

"Take us to the Secure Unit and show us around Fred" Cho ordered him.

Fred stood up but wasn't entirely sure he should do what this Agent told him to do. After all, only the Doctor and Fred were allowed back there, not the FBI.

"I don't know about that...I should ask the Doctor if that's OK" he said lamely.

"Sure, why don't you do that?" Cho said with sarcasm. "By the way, where did you say the Doctor was right now?"

Fred looked from Cho to Lisbon and back to Cho. Holy shit...they had him now.

"Umm...OK, I guess it's OK just this once…" he mumbled as he led the way again. He took his key card and swiped the lock, and then when the door clicked, he opened it wide enough for both Agents to pass through to the Secure Unit..

"If you could just be calm and quiet while we're back here it will help to keep our oldest patient calm, OK Agents?" he said hopefully.

"Of course" Lisbon smiled, urging the man to show them the patient rooms. Fred stepped up to the door at the far end of the hall and put his finger to his lips. Ssshhhhh…

"This here's the Conductor. Been here for years and years. Fierce temper when you get him riled up. Most likely will never be released but he's happy enough" he rambled, while Cho and Teresa peeked in at him through the small window. He was sitting on a chair reading and unaware of the chaos going on all around him. The room opposite The Conductor was empty, so Fred walked the short distance to the next room on the right.

"This here is Mark's room, was his room... He was here for about a year. Totally crazy, can't accept why he needed to be here. Delusional. Said he's the real Doctor and not a patient. Kinda sad if you ask me" he added, stepping aside so the two Agents could stare inside the small room. Only a rumpled bed showed someone had recently been held there. A metal cup lay on the floor. Cho stepped up and bagged it for evidence.

Next Fred directed them to Jane's room. "This is the room James Bond was in."

Lisbon and Cho stepped inside the small cell and scanned the room. Totally empty, save for a metal cup on the floor next to the night table.

Cho bagged it as well, seeing a pattern.

"Why did you nickname this patient James Bond?" Teresa asked with interest.

"This was our newest patient, just came in the other day. Sad case like I told ya. The guy is convinced he's a secret agent" he laughed as he pointed to the door. "So I called him James Bond. Hey, since he's gone, maybe he really was an Agent" Fred laughed nervously.

Lisbon studied the room and again, only saw furniture and a narrow bed, messy from a restless sleeper. She suddenly looked at Cho with an insight into this particular patient. She fumbled around in her pocket and pulled out the photo of Anika and Jane.

"Take a look at this man. Do you recognize him Fred?"

The orderly took the photo and stared into the smiling face of their newest patient, Patrick Jane.

"Yeah, sure ...that's him alright...Mr. Jane. Totally crazy. I caught him back here the other day trying to leave, and the Doctor told me to stop him. Turns out he was a new admission and was completely delusional, told me he worked for the FBI!" he laughed, handing the photo back to Teresa. "Can you believe it? Probably a paranoid schizophrenic" he said, not seeing the reaction from these two real Agents that he expected.

"And what happened to Mr. Jane when you caught him trying to leave?" Cho asked.

"Well I had to subdue him and hold him down while Dr. Litchfield injected a sedative into him. Sometimes it's the only way to handle them" he said sadly. "Otherwise they can be quite violent."

Cho looked at Teresa and hardened his jaw. Jane had been right here, right up until very recently.

"Fred, this man…" Teresa pointed to Jane's photo again, "he is an FBI Consultant, works out of the Austin office. He was telling you the truth. He's also my husband and we've been searching for him. Dr. Litchfield knew he was an FBI agent and lied to you."

Fred was momentarily stunned. This guy...was a real FBI agent? And they held him as a patient? Oh Jeez….Fred blanched as all the blood drained out of his face. He was in serious trouble, he was sure as sure can be.

"Honest...I didn't know! Dr. Litchfield told me he was a new patient and very sick. We sedated him pretty hard!" he said with horror. "He was...ahh...tripping...if you know what I mean" he said with shame for what had been done to this law enforcement officer.

"Tripping? Just what the hell did the Doctor give Jane?" Teresa demanded, getting in Fred's face.

"I don't know! But, he was in pretty bad shape before he disappeared, hiding in the corner of his room, crying, mumbling about a girl, Charlotte, and another girl, Angela. It was sad, scary. I thought maybe he was losing his mind" Fred added, not understanding how these words cut Teresa like a knife. She couldn't hear any more and walked away, shaking.

"Dr. Litchfield's been lying to you Fred, you and everybody else around here. We need you to show us his private quarters" Cho said as he pulled out his cell phone. There was no signal.

"The phone won't work back here, you hafta go out front, sorry" Fred explained. Cho now understood why Jane didn't call when he discovered what was going on. He couldn't. They left the Secure Unit and went back towards the front hall where the signal magically re-appeared. Cho placed a call to the Austin FBI office and quickly informed them of Jane's drugging and kidnapping from the Home, and to put out an APB on the fake Dr. Litchfield, as well as a BOLO on his car. He also ordered his bank accounts to be frozen and all train stations, bus stations and airports to be on the lookout for the man they knew as Dr. Litchfield.

"I want you to check all CCTV coverage of the area beginning at the Litchfield Psychiatric Home and all roads and main highways leading away from the Home in all directions" Cho barked out. "Leave no stone unturned. We need to find out where that car went immediately!"


	18. The Confession

I thought I'd slip in another chapter before the Easter long weekend. For those who celebrate, Happy Easter!

Dead Ringers

Chapter 18

The Confession

Slamming his phone shut Cho faced Fred again. "Lead the way to the Doctor's private quarters."

Turning back to glance furtively at Teresa Jane, the FBI man's wife, Fred almost wanted to beg for her forgiveness.

"I'm sorry...for what we did...to your husband...the Doctor told me what to do" he began but Teresa cut him off.

"You drugged an innocent man, could have killed him, might have damaged him beyond help! You damned well better be sorry!"

"Yes Ma'am!" Fred agreed, wanting to disappear right here, right now. He actually did care for his patients, even with his limited education, his heart was kind and big. The man he had trusted so implicitly had turned out to be an evil psychopath, that much was clear to him now. Cho hustled Fred forward, beyond angry himself but there was nothing Fred could have done differently. Lisbon would agree, once she had calmed down.

Arriving in the front hall, Fred pointed to the ornate staircase. "This way."

He knew that if they took the front staircase straight up it eventually would lead to the floor where his boss had his suite of rooms. He had never dared go up there, but that's where the man lived and slept, he was sure of it. Taking the steps two by two, Cho and Lisbon ran ahead of Fred once he pointed the way. At the top, an ornate door opened onto a beautiful turn of the century apartment, filled with fine antiques and a few modern conveniences, like a leather sofa and large screen TV. Through another door a small kitchen was revealed. Off to one side, a heavy mahogany door opened up into a landing, which had a staircase going down into a dark hall. That was the hidden staircase only the Doctor knew about. Cho and Lisbon proceeded straight forward into the bedroom. The room looked like it had been tossed by a robber. Clothes were scattered across the floor and the bed. A power bar on a small desk showed that the Doctor had had a laptop there, but now it was gone. An armoire in the corner stood with its doors wide open. A shirt or two remained hanging up, but everything else was gone. Teresa gazed into the armoire and noticed the tail of one shirt seemed to have been sucked right to the woodwork.

"Cho, come and look at this" she indicated, pointing at the disappearing fabric. Running his fingers along the wood, Cho felt a slight seam, running the full length of the back panel in the armoire.

"It's a false back. Must be triggered by a switch somewhere" he concluded, searching for a button or switch.

"This must be what Jane discovered just before he was caught. What do you think was hidden back there Cho?" Teresa asked, also looking for a lever or pulley to open the back of the closet.

"Don't know...but it had to have been something incriminating, something the Doctor didn't want anyone to know about" he guessed.

"Beards? Wigs?" Lisbon surmised.

Cho looked up grimly. "Probably."

A comb and brush was sitting on the night table, so Cho bagged them for DNA evidence. If any DNA was taken off the beard, they could match it to samples on the comb set. Now they had some real evidence to work with. A quick search of the room failed to turn up anything else of importance, so they went back downstairs to find Fred again.

"Am I under arrest?" he asked fearfully, expecting to feel steel cuffs on his wrists any minute now.

"No. You only did what your employer told you to do. You're doing good work here. Keep it up" Teresa told him, to his immense relief.

"Do you have any idea where David Litchfield would go if he wanted to hide out for a while? A place he mentioned in passing, an old cabin or remote location big enough to hide two men?" Cho asked Fred.

"No, no Sir. The Doctor never mentioned anything like that to me."

"If you do remember anything else that can help us find Mr. Jane and the other patient, call this number and ask for an Agent to take your statement" Teresa instructed him, handing over one of her business cards.

"Yes Agent" he said, finally able to relax. Someone called his name, and he took his leave, back to work again.

Cho gazed around the building and determined that the patients were well taken care of, so they could safely leave the Home.

"Where to?" Teresa asked as they got back into their car.

"The office. I expect Wylie didn't find out anything useful on our other leads. We need to check the CCTV footage and see if we can find Litchfield's car, and hand in the brush set for a DNA analysis."

"It's going to be a long day" Teresa sighed. She picked up her phone and called her babysitter. Thank goodness the woman could stay as long as possible and keep her eye on Anika for as long as they needed her.

(Blanchard Cement Factory - 8 a.m.)

Jane and David had awakened a half hour ago but Mark was nowhere in sight. They were stiff and cold and desperate to be set free. Until Mark came back, they couldn't do anything to help themselves out of their current situation. They needed to convince Mark to drop his guard. Outside in the early morning sunshine, Mark sat on the loading dock, drinking a gas station coffee, growing bored. He had another day to kill before he had to head to the airport late tonight, but until these two bozo's woke up, he didn't have anything to do to amuse himself. The GHB in their systems should have worn off by now. If they were still groggy, he had a fun cure for that. Mark entered the first room and made his way back to the space where both men sat strapped to their chairs, looking exhausted and thirsty. He could help them with that problem.

They eyed him silently as he walked right past them. Mark looked around and spotted a hose lying in a dusty heap amongst other forgotten bits of garbage and broken tools. He dragged the hose across the floor and attached one end to a spigot sticking out of the back wall. Turning the tap to release long suppressed water, he dialed the nozzle on the other end of the hose and was delighted to see water shoot out of the filthy hose. A stream of muck and ice cold water shot across the floor, and Mark lifted it up to douse both men with the icy blast. Jane and David both reacted violently to the freezing onslaught. As they were tied down, neither could protect their faces or any other body parts.

"Shower time!" he yelled as his prisoners twisted and tried to avoid suffocating in the torrent of water.

"Stop Mark stop!" David screamed while Jane tried to keep from gagging.

After letting them scream for a good long while, Mark turned the water off and watched both of his captives shiver and shake in the cold air, looking miserable. Jane gazed around, clad only in his boxers still, and fixed his attention on the man sitting beside him. David tossed his long wet hair out of his eyes and returned Jane's glare. This sucked.

"Good morning boys" Mark laughed, pulling a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. "Awake now?"

"Yes, thank you" Jane said sarcastically. "I needed a shower."

"Mark. What is all this?" David croaked. "Why are we here?"

Mark sat on a wooden box and puffed on his cigarette.

"We're in paradise David. My own personal paradise actually. For you...not so much. But that's what you get when you betray your own family and make them lose everything. I guess you could consider this my last payback for you fucking up my life. After seven years of medical education - _seven years_ asshole - I had the skills to be a doctor, but because of you, I'll never legally be able to use them. So, I became you David, a real, bone fide doctor. Poetic justice, don't you think?"

He took another long drag on his cigarette and enjoyed his position of power.

"Poor you...blah blah blah…" he teased mockingly.

"I've told you a thousand times Mark, it wasn't me who went to the Dean of Students and got you expelled. I knew what you were doing but I didn't have the balls to rat you out. So I guess that makes me no better than you, hey cousin? We're both shit!"

"You'd say anything just about now wouldn't you David? I didn't believe you then, and I sure as shit don't believe you now traitor" Mark taunted him.

Jane let the two of then argue, knowing he would have his turn with his captor. He didn't have to wait long. Mark turned his attention to him.

"And you, Agent Patrick Jane of the FBI...look what all your smarts got you...a brain full of hallucinogens and a memory made of Swiss cheese!" he laughed, enjoying seeing the cop so weak, completely at his mercy.

"You know what I did to you right? Shot you full of sedatives laced with enough mind benders to send you back in time, maybe permanently. Man you were certifiably crazy yesterday" he laughed. "Crying like a baby, snivelling and hiding under the blanket. Pathetic!"

Jane stared glassy-eyed at the cigarette smoking man. He remembered clearly what the drugs had done to him, resurrecting long repressed memories of his family's murder. Yesterday, Jane was sure the year was 2003, and that he was back in the mental institution where Sophie Miller worked so hard to save his life. The overwhelming sense of gloom and desire to commit suicide still felt fresh to him, even today. What Mark had done to Jane and his poor cousin David was reprehensible, but Jane was in no position to fight, not yet at least, so he had to watch his tongue and only speak if it helped him get free.

"Yes, I was crazy yesterday, living in the past, thanks to you. But you knew what would happen when you gave me those drugs, or at least you hoped I'd lose it. After all, my life is an open book thanks to the internet. I hope I provided you with the entertainment you wanted" he said with just enough sass to make Mark realize his brain was already back to normal. He continued.

"I work for the FBI out of Austin Texas, and the year is 2018, not 2003, the year my family was killed. Sorry to disappoint you if you thought I was still living in the past" he added. He looked down at his bound wrists and saw the gouge in the soft skin between his thumb and forefinger and the image of a big happy puppy leaping up on him came rushing back. That's how he tore his skin! Lisbon would have been knocked down by that beast.

Ahh Teresa….

Her face appeared before him, smiling and encouraging him. She was no fantasy. He knew and loved this woman. Teresa...his wife. Her memory filled him with warmth, hope and determination. He had to get home to Teresa! Mark didn't take kindly to his smart ass answer and grabbed the hose again, firing the icy water at both men once more.

"Stop! Stop Mark!" David cried, garnering himself a throat full of water. Both men were gasping for air as Mark shot the water right at their faces, effectively waterboarding them. By the time he turned off the hose, both men were almost unable to draw a breath.

"You know what I think? I think you guys need to chill out and relax. Sit and contemplate the last few hours of your miserable lives. But you David, you are the most miserable of them all" Mark leered, flicking his cigarette ashes into his cousin's face. A hot ember burned a piece of tender skin by David's eye.

"Oops, sorry cousin."

He went back to his cooler chest and brought out his first beer of the day, then took a video game out of his pocket and settled back to while away the time before he had to get on with starting his new life. Jane and David shivered in the chilly air, their fingers blue from lack of circulation and ice cold water.

"Mark, let us go. You can leave the country if you want, but killing us isn't going to help you" David begged his deranged relative.

Pausing his game, Mark stood up and belted David across the face.

"That's where you're wrong David. It will help me immensely. Seeing you twist and turn for the next few hours before you die is exactly what I need. As for the cop here, he just couldn't stay away and look elsewhere for his killer. He had to snoop around where he didn't belong."

Mark walked over to Jane and bent down to speak directly into his face.

"So I guess you don't know the latest, do you G-man?"

Jane had no idea what Mark meant. "No."

"Remember poor Lynn Michaels? Huh? The college girl that some creep tried to kidnap and rape in Markdale? Betcha can't guess who the big bad wolf is" he grinned, watching to see if Jane remembered that far back this week.

"Yes, I remember Lynn. And I know you're the one who attacked her. I saw your closet with disguises. You wore a fake beard when you tried to carry her away."

"Bravo, full marks Mr. Jane. Then what happened?"

"She got away from you. And she tore off part of your beard. She's safe now. The FBI have that beard Mark, evidence that you were there, at the scene of the attack. All they need is a bit of your DNA. And they'll have it soon enough" Jane added ominously.

Mark laughed at Jane's confidence in the FBI. "Is she safe? Are you sure G-man?"

Jane studied Stockman, a sick feeling rising in his gut. What had he done to Lynn? Mark continued, his voice smooth and dark.

"You're right. Sweet Lynnie did get away after she tore off my beard. Such a fighter, so strong and brave. And yes, she got away, but just once."

Mark leaned in closer and almost whispered in Jane's ear.

"Here's the kicker Mr. Jane….She thought she was so smart, hiding out at her Aunt's house, but sooner or later I knew she'd need some of her things. I followed her roommate and found poor Lynnie so easily. And now she's dead, at the bottom of a pond way out in the boonies. The cops will never find her" Mark laughed, enjoying the startled look on Jane's face.

"You drowned her?" Jane replied in shock.

"Yup. Glug glug glug…" Mark sneered, mimicking a drowning person. He relished remembering the girl's cries of terror as he tied her up and dragged her body out into the pond. She lasted a minute or two, desperately trying to get free of her ropes, but the icy water and weight on the line finished her off quickly.

Jane looked away in disgust. Mark Stockman was the psychopath here, not the real David, and certainly not Jane, now that all of the hallucinogens were out of his system. The only good thing about being hosed down with icy water was that it helped to clear his mind completely. Teresa was no longer a shadowy figure but his wife, he knew that now. David gazed over at the FBI man and felt responsible for his dilemma.

"Sorry you got involved in this" David said through chattering teeth. "This was an issue between Mark and me, and now you'll die too."

Jane had no smart retort ready for this apology. It wasn't David's fault. This was all on Mark. He chose his path, everyone else was collateral damage. Jane had to keep Mark talking until he could think his way out of here.

"You can't tell me running away is going to give you the career you got cheated out of" Jane needled him. "You'll be on the run for the rest of your life and will never be able to come back to the States. The FBI will look for you forever."

"Says who? You? If I could practice medicine here in the States for almost a year, I can do it overseas. D'ya know how hard it was to be my goody goody cousin day in and day out? Always staying ahead of people who knew David and got suspicious of me? It was a losers game and it was time to get out."

"But not before you killed three people who suspected you weren't the real David Litchfield, correct?" Jane guessed, understanding more and more.

"They had to be eliminated. That damned old pharmacist poked his nose in where it didn't belong, so I put an end to his questions. Now shut the fuck up!"

David looked at his cousin with a new sense of horror. This was news to him. Did Mark kill Bill Palley? Why? For what?

"You killed Bill Palley? Who else? Huh? What have you done while I was locked up Mark?"

Chain smoking Stockman pulled another cigarette out of his pocket, ignoring his whiney cousin. Another beer top was opened and he sat drinking, pretending his dumbass cousin David hadn't asked him about Palley.

"Tell me!" screamed David, shaking his chair with anger. "Who else died because of you?"

"Might as well tell him Mark, otherwise I will" Jane said quietly. When Stockman ignored David's question, Jane turned to David and offered to fill him in on his cousin's crime spree.

"David, your cousin has been a very bad boy. Seems several people he came in contact with died. Tell him Mark, take some pride in your work." Jane wanted a full confession out of Mark, just in case he and David somehow survived this day.

Mark rose to the bait and stood up, pacing back and forth, his temper rising as Jane irritated him more and more.

"You want to know Davey? You could say I've been busy being you… Remember Carrie Klein? Sweet young thing, maybe 20? She missed you, apparently" Mark said as he squatted down in front of David.

"No...you didn't…" David whispered. "Not Carrie. What did she do to you?'

Mark grinned, staring at his cousin, enjoying his anguish. "Well sweet Carrie thought she spotted you in Markdale. I invited her for a drink. It was going well, until she noticed that I was drinking alcohol even though you had given it up. I'm sure she figured out soon enough that I wasn't you, but by that time, she was in my car. She died before we got past the town limits. So sad. Such a waste, as they say."

"You son of a bitch!" David yelled, desperate to get his hands on his cousin Mark. Jane had now heard Mark confess to three murders. One more to go.

"What about Susannah Moore Mark? What did she do to deserve to die?"

Mark turned to face Jane, realizing the man was totally clear minded and too dangerous to live. He leaned over Jane, his beer breath foul against his face.

"Yes, Susannah Moore. Great nurse. Did a good job, but she was too good, too professional. Asked too many questions that I didn't intend to answer. She went to the Secure Unit on a day that I was out. Fred called on her to deal with the Conductor."

"She saw me in my room, didn't she?" David guessed. "Saw that I looked just like you."

"She sure did. Knew something was wrong. You still looked like yourself back then, had more meat on your bones and shorter hair. When I got back to the Home, the questions started, and she wasn't satisfied with my answers. When she found an old photo of you and me, that was it. She put it all together and then, she died. Such a shame."

"You bastard! You killed 4 people while you pretended you were me!" David spat out in disgust.

Mark lurched forward and grabbed a plastic bag out of his beer cooler. Taking two steps over to David, he pulled it over his head, holding it tightly around his neck. David started to buck and rock, trying to shake it off, but his cousin held it securely, grinning like a madman. David was rapidly running out of air and began thrashing against his heavy chair, his lungs begging for oxygen, his brain exploding in pops of light and dizziness.

"Let him go! Stop it! Is this how you want it to end?" Jane screamed, terrified Stockman would suffocate his cousin in a fit of rage. Mark looked at Jane and smiled.

"Not yet. This is too quick" he said lazily, then released the bag and pulled it off his enemy's head. David was beet red and hysterical. Gulping air, he looked down at the floor in shame and fear.

"And that's how it's done David" Mark said satisfaction. "Oh, and also, you're wrong. Not four people killed. It will be six people, when I'm done with you two" Mark laughed.

Jane studied Stockman and knew he had to push him, force him to do something rash, but not so rash that it got him suffocated, like David was. As long as Stockman was in control, Jane and David were going to die, soon. Jane had to shake things up. He looked around the room, trying to see something they could use to set themselves free. If he could unbalance Mark, they might have a chance to escape. From now on his only focus was on getting the hell out of there before they both died at Mark's hands. As far as he could see beyond the intense blue white light of the lantern, the room was empty. If they were going to get away, it would require a bold, and most likely futile effort.

Jane turned his attention back to Mark.

"Got anything we could eat or drink? I haven't had anything since yesterday morning."

"Like I care, so shut the fuck up G-man" Mark snapped back, sitting back down to savour his current beer, getting a little drunk.

"What's going to become of the Home and its' patients?" Jane asked, trying to annoy the man in control.

"Like I said, I don't give a shit about those losers. That place kept a roof over my head for a year but now it's time to leave. They can all rot as far as I care" he answered.

"It was good gig Mark. You could have lived there as David Litchfield for years to come. Why'd you risk it all? For what? Why'd you keep the real David Litchfield alive? That was stupid. You were inviting trouble" Jane needled him. "Or are you all talk and no action?" he added, seeing his keeper losing his patience over his barbs.

"I told you to shut up! You got a death wish Secret Agent Man?" Mark yelled, unable to take criticism, as Jane suspected. "I killed all those people. That's action!"

David watched the FBI consultant agitate his already unbalanced cousin and felt sure it was going to get them both killed now, not later as originally promised. After what Mark had just done to him, he was terrified Jane was making things much worse. He had to calm everybody down.

"He's only trying to get you riled up, aren't you Mr. Jane?" David said anxiously. "It's nothing, he's kidding Mark, ignore him!"

"I'm not kidding David. Your cousin here is a wuss, a big mouth, all talk but only good at attacking people weaker than himself, aren't I right Markie?" Jane continued, pushing the crazy man's emotional buttons. "It's easy to kill an old man, and a tiny little girl, and a middle aged woman. You haven't got the balls to take us on! That's why you relied on drugs instead of muscle to handle us!"

Mark guzzled the last of his beer then smashed the bottle on the cement floor. Standing up, he pulled out a switchblade and advanced on Jane. All Jane saw was the blade gleaming in the harsh light. He may have gone a bit too far.


	19. 47

Happy Sunday everyone! The sun is shining and spring is here! Thank you to all my new readers, I hope you are enjoying this story. Time for Chapter 19.

Dead Ringers

Chapter 19

47%

Jane had Mark completely wound up, taking advantage of his drunken ego, egging him on with his insults about his strength and masculinity. He eyed the switchblade cautiously.

"Let's see who's all talk and no action G-man!" Mark said as he lunged forward, his small stiletto slicing the zip ties on Jane's wrist. Then he cut the other one, letting Jane have the use of his hands again.

"Come on big man, big mouth, show me how brave you are!" Mark yelled, weaving slightly as Jane stood up, his chances to escape exponentially greater now. Instead of attacking Mark, Jane folded his arms and looked relaxed. It took all of his self-control to look so unworried, when in reality, he was terrified.

"Not a fair fight. What's the point?" Jane said with a wave of his hand. He was taking a huge chance the man would just stab him and get the aggravation over with. "You've got the knife."

Mark swayed slightly, grinning and nodded, pleased that even though he was free, the FBI man was still impotent, and most likely a coward after all.

"That's right. I'm in control. So now what're you going to do G-man?"

Jane shrugged his shoulders. "Eh...nothing. Maybe enjoy the use of my hands. Those ties were getting tight" Jane said affably, stepping a bit to the side, avoiding stepping into the broken beer bottle with his bare feet. When Mark did nothing, he walked a bit farther away.

"Going somewhere?" Mark asked, starting to regret letting the man loose but still assured that he was in control here.

"Nowhere to go. Like I said, you're the one with the knife. David is no threat, sorry David...but me, I just want to stretch my legs" Jane smiled, strolling in front of David, gazing around the room now that he had a better view.

"Can I have a beer, now that I'm up?" he smiled benignly.

"Fuck off!" Mark answered. Jane smirked. So far, so good.

"What is this place?" he asked casually, eyeing the door to the first room. Could he run fast enough to get away from Mark?

"It's the sorting room in the old cement factory in Blanchard" David answered dully from behind Jane. "We used to come here when we were in high school and fool around. When we still liked each other" he added, staring at Mark.

"That was a long time ago" Mark snapped, not willing to remember any good times they may have shared.

Jane strolled a bit farther away from where David sat tied to his chair, then stood calmly to Mark's left. Mark had settled onto his wooden crate again, smoking, feeling smug, convinced that Jane was no threat to him, not naked as he was except for his boxers. The razor sharp knife lay carelessly on top of the crate next to Marks' thigh. The hose lay a few feet away from where Jane stood, still turned on at the tap, leaking a bit of water under pressure at the nozzle. Jane took it all in and saw an opportunity there. A plan was forming in his mind, but it was crazy and reckless and most likely only 47% sure of success. In other words, totally worth pursuing. Jane inched a bit closer to the hose and watched Mark drop his empty beer bottle into the cooler box. How many had he finished now? The more, the better. David watched Jane and realized he was planning to do something rash. It could get them both killed, but since Jane was now free of his bonds, David had to pray that the gamble would pay off.

Mark was relaxed, feeling omnipotent, off his guard as he reached for another cigarette. Jane watched as David dropped the cigarette with careless fingers. It rolled away from him and he leaned over to reach for it, giving Jane his one and only opportunity to act. Jane quickly picked up the hose and turned the nozzle to 'full', aiming it squarely for Mark's face. The unexpected blast knocked the drunk man off his perch and he tumbled to the floor, gasping for air. Keeping the blast of water on his nose and mouth, Jane leaned forward and grabbed Mark's knife, which had remained sitting on the flat top of the box. He stepped back and took a quick swipe at one of David's zip ties, slashing it open. Then he threw the slender knife into David's lap so he could release the other tie himself. As soon as Jane had helped David, he ran towards Mark with the hose, smashing him over the head with the brass nozzle to stun him, then bolted for the door that led to the first room. Nothing would stop him now, freedom was only a room away. Behind him he hoped that David would use the knife to protect himself and get to freedom as well.

Jane ran through to the first room and got all the way to the outside door unimpeded. So far, so good. With shaking hands he started to pull on the locking mechanism, lifting the heavy steel latch that lay in the cradle of the lock. Behind him David had released the second zip tie and leaped up to run towards freedom, but was tripped by a groggy Mark as he ran past his cousin. Now both men were on the floor, wrestling and pummeling each other with rage in the cold water. David had the slim knife in hand but when it came down to it, he couldn't stab his cousin or hurt him in any way with the stiletto. He couldn't do that to another human being, even one so evil as Mark. Jane cast a quick glance behind him when he heard the men fighting in the back room but kept working on getting the old rusty door open. Mark fought back against David like a tiger, fueled by alcohol and hatred, ultimately getting on top of the much weaker man, who had not eaten well for months. A couple of swift punches to the jaw left David a crumpled heap on the floor. Now free of his antagonist, Mark turned his attention to Jane, who had finally disengaged the old lock and was pulling the door open, at last.

From where he stood, Jane believed Mark couldn't throw his knife at him if he got free from David, assuming the slender stiletto was too light and too small to do much harm from that distance. He felt sure if he could get out of the door he could make it to freedom and come back for David. He was wrong.

He had seriously misjudged what Mark could do with that knife. Just as the door slid open the last few inches for Jane to ease through, a white hot pain pierced Jane's side, stunning him into faltering against the door frame. He looked down and saw a blooming rose of blood spread down his hip. Reaching for his side in shock, his hand came away slick with blood. The tip of the blade was visible projecting out of the front of the hole in Jane's body. Mark had managed to run close enough through the second room to hurl his stiletto at Jane. It was a skill he had learned in self-defence in Asia over the last 10 years. As the realization that he had been stabbed occupied his mind, Jane tried to ignore the pain from the hole in his side, but his legs started to give out. He desperately needed to get away, ignore the pain, get his legs working, the door was open! He could see outside and car headlights as they drove by on the highway in the distance. Freedom was inches away… Jane put one foot in front of the other, staggering slowly forward, feeling light headed. Behind him, danger continued to approach.

Mark strolled across the dusty room, grinning like a wolf who has finally cornered his prey. He was in no hurry. Mr. Jane was no threat to him now. Jane managed to stagger upright grasping the wall and stepped outside, the morning air cool and fresh. Feeling slightly invigorated by the crisp air, he willed his legs to move quickly, but he was reduced to a halting walk, his head spinning with shock and his body screaming for relief. He was losing blood, but slowly. The loading dock presented him with a challenge as he tried to navigate himself over to the edge, where he planned to jump down and run to a safe hiding place. His will power was greater than what his body would allow. Behind him, Mark walked triumphantly to the door and peered outside at his foe.

"Going somewhere sunshine?" Mark sneered before he clubbed Jane over the head with the butt of his gun, delighting in seeing the smartass fall again. This time, there was no getting up. Bending over Jane's prone body, Stockman pulled the stiletto out of his back and closed it, sliding it back into his jeans pocket.

Jane lay stunned and bleeding on the loading dock. Stockman needed him to walk to the car parked close by, but in his condition, Jane couldn't move. Frustrated by this irritating man, Mark grasped him under his arms and dragged him off the platform and let him fall to the ground below. A loud cry of anguish escaped Jane's lips as he smashed into the dirt, his pain so great that it partially awakened him. He drew his legs up to his chest in a futile attempt to protect himself and shut his eyes, drifting off again. Mark ran back through the two rooms and gathered up his cousin, half dragging, half carrying him to the front of the building. This was time consuming work, so Mark left David unconscious on the loading dock while he ran to his car and pulled it up close to the platform. Once there, he threw open the back doors and pulled an unresisting Jane inside, leaving a trail of blood in the packed dirt.

David was next, lumped in next to Jane's limp body, then Mark slammed the car doors and drove to a remote part of the factory at the back of the property. This is where the old product silos and the long horizontal kiln still stood. Back in production days, a long tube fed raw smashed rocks into the kiln from a chute in the silo. Once in the long kiln, the pulverized rocks would be roasted up to 1400 degrees F and turn into more a usable material. What came out at the other end of the kiln was known as 'clinkers'. The horizontal tube was 230 feet long and 18 feet wide in circumference, punctuated with rusty holes only large enough to let in a bit of daylight. The original chute had rusted and detached itself from the kiln and left an opening four feet wide covered by a metal plate. Mark pulled his car up to the kiln and pried the old rusted steel plate loose with a tire iron, then shoved it aside just enough to grant him room to work. When he had exposed an opening large enough to walk through, he ran back to the car and pulled David out. Tying his hands and feet together, he dragged him through the opening and far inside the gloomy metal cylinder, leaving him on the floor. Then he went back for Jane.

Jane had remained unconscious throughout the short drive over to the kiln, unable to fight back against Mark, the continuing slow blood loss leaving him still doubled over clutching his side. The back seat was becoming slick with blood. Mark reached in and pulled Jane out of the car and dragged him across the ground towards the kiln. Moving the FBI agent was hard work and Mark cursed loudly as he maneuvered Jane into the opening of the long tube. With each jolt and shove, Jane roused from his groggy state and cried out in misery. Mark struggled to get through the opening with Jane, but once inside, he pulled him forward about 6 feet in. Just to make sure the FBI Agent couldn't escape a second time, he also zip-tied his hands and feet. Both men were now defenseless. If he could have fed them a glass cyanide pill, Mark would gladly have done so, but he no longer had any left. The agent was going to die soon from his stab wound, and keeping David alive to die of hypothermia, thirst and hunger seemed like a much more satisfying process than just murdering him. He only regretted not being able to stick around to enjoy seeing them both die. But, he had much to do today, so he left the men in the dim tube and ran back to the opening. He stepped through the small space then hammered the loosened cover back over the opening with his tire iron and hustled back to his car. Luck had been on his side for a year now, and he wasn't willing to tempt it any more. Time to disappear.

(FBI - Austin Texas)

By the time Cho and Lisbon arrived back at the Bullpen, the place was buzzing with activity. Several agents were glued to screens scanning CCTV footage from the previous night right through to the present. There was a lot to look at and not much time to locate their man. A black car, at night, in poor lighting, was going to be a nightmare to deal with. Since Stockman had such a long headstart in his escape, there was a real, unspoken fear at the FBI that they might already be too late to rescue Jane and the real Dr. Litchfield. Cho was notified that money had been withdrawn from two bank accounts associated with Litchfield and Stockman before the FBI froze their accounts. The only upside was that they knew that Stockman had travelled to Blanchard to make the withdrawals. That was their current search area. Fine tuning their CCTV coverage, the agents hoped to locate the car within the hour. Then, agents would fan out to find their suspect and his victims.

Cho called a quick meeting with his team, hearing updates and issuing commands, then stepped away from his podium, eager to do more. Wylie had his head down, concentrating on his computer screen, surveying airport parking lot footage and scanning faces in the crowds waiting for flights. It was a slow but necessary process. Stockman might be trying to sneak out of the country even as his car was being tracked. Cho wasn't content to wait until they had pinpointed Stockman or his car. If he had done his banking in Blanchard, it followed that he had been hiding out in that vicinity. The possibility was very real that he was long gone by now, perhaps even out the State, if not the country, but so far, no border agents had scanned his passport. Once the meeting in the Bullpen dispersed, Cho saw no reason to stick around to wait for reports to come in from the field. He needed to be out there, searching for his friend and the innocent Doctor.

Feeling that any more time spent in Austin was a lost opportunity to run Stockman to the ground, Cho flagged Teresa and they set off with several agents, heading towards Markdale and Blanchard. Anywhere in between, they just might get lucky.

(Blanchard Cement Factory Kiln)

David was awake, his jaw aching from Mark's punch. Mark had always been a fighter, a scrapper and not someone you wanted against you in a physical altercation. Looking around in the limited light, David had a moment of panic when he realized he was now in a new location, in a long cylinder of some sort. It was extremely long, dusty, and high enough for him to easily stand in, if he could get up on his hogtied feet. Mark had hastily zip tied David's ankles together but made the mistake of zip tying his wrists together in front of his body, not behind. A small victory, but with some luck, he might be able to break his restraints and get free. He soon realized he was in the horizontal kiln, a monolith he had often walked past when he worked at the cement factory as a teen. A moan in the dark alerted him to Jane's presence. David got on his hands and knees and crawled forward towards the sound, until he could make out the shape of a body in front of him in a weak stream of light.

"Mr. Jane….are you alright?" he asked, hoping Jane had only been knocked out. When he got no response, he approached carefully and prodded the body with his hands, eliciting a sharp groan of pain when he accidentally touched the knife wound. The wetness on his hands told him all he needed to know. His companion had been stabbed.

"Mr. Jane! Patrick...wake up...can you hear me? Wake up!" he shouted, gently shaking the wounded man. Jane was fading, but he needed to stay awake, fight for his life, not sleep away his opportunity to escape.

"Patrick!" David yelled again, rubbing his knuckles into Jane's sternum, hurting him enough to awaken him.

"Owww…."Jane said harshly, not understanding what was being done to him but for shit's sake it hurt!

"You have to stay awake Patrick, you've been stabbed! Don't sleep!" David ordered him, feeling completely useless without his medical equipment, much less the use of his hands. He gingerly felt Jane's body, looking for other injuries, but other than a huge lump on his head, the only other major problem was the bloody hole in Patrick's side. He had to get the bleeding under control but there was nothing he could use, nothing clean and available.

"Got to get out" Jane gasped, alert enough now to know they couldn't stay where they were.

"Go for help" he wheezed, trying to sit up. As soon as he got moving, the pain shot through his midsection and he collapsed in agony.

"Stop! Stay still, you'll lose more blood if you move" David warned him. There was no way he could tell if a major organ had been pierced by the knife. If so, internal bleeding unseen to the eye would soon finish Jane off. If he didn't get someone to help Jane soon, the man could die in this kiln. He crawled around Jane and made his way laboriously to the end of the tube, seeing that for the most part, it was now blocked by another piece of metal crossing over the entrance. That was his only way out and no matter what, he had to move that obstacle and leave with Jane to get help. He got on his backside and started to kick the metal, trying to move it, bend it, lift it, whatever it took to make a space large enough to crawl through. The rough edges of the metal were sharp enough to slice through flesh, but he raised his arms up and started to saw at his zip ties, snapping them quickly. He then raised his feet and tried to do the same thing, but the angle was bad and he only succeeded in slicing his ankles multiple times. He had to keep trying and after 5 minutes, he had his feet free at last. He crawled back to Jane and roused him.

"I'm going to try to get out of this kiln, and if I do, I'll get you out too. Don't you dare die on me Patrick!"

Jane lay with his eyes closed, aware that David was yelling at him, but he just didn't care. He needed to sleep, ignore the pain in his side and rest. David couldn't wait any longer to act, as precious minutes were ticking by, so he crawled back towards the entrance to the kiln and started to attack the large metal circle covering the end of the long cylinder. He could see daylight through the small opening, but there was no way he could slide his body out of that slim space. A metal bar would do the trick to pry the lid off the opening, but the only thing inside the kiln was dust. David stopped and waited, thinking. Without any tools, the only thing he had to use was his body, so he lay on his back and raised his feet against the sharp edge of the metal disc, pushing out with his legs as hard as he could. Almost a year of inactivity showed up in his weakened leg muscles, but he kept working at it, slipping now and then and slicing his ankles again against the sharp metal.

He pressed his worn slippers against the edge of the disc and pushed again and again, working hard at this daunting challenge. When he got too exhausted, he lay back panting, gathering his strength to try once more. Raising his legs up, he placed his feet against the sharp metal edge of the steel plate and resumed pushing, grunting with effort and sweating in the cool air. It seem futile, a weak man against a heavy steel plate. Alternating between pushing and resting, David lost track of time, but gazing back into the tube he saw that Jane had stopped moving. A shiver of panic ran up the Doctor's spine as he got up and ran back to examine his patient.

"Patrick! Wake up buddy! Wake up and look at me!" he demanded, rubbing Jane's sternum again until he got a muffled shout of indignation out of the injured man.

"Stop...hurts…" Jane said softly, gazing at David through barely opened eyes.

"I know, sorry...but you have to try to stay awake and fight. Don't give in to the pain and don't give up. I'm trying to get us out of here" David said with as much hope in his voice as he could muster. Jane nodded, trying to stay clear minded against his pain and blood loss. It was all up to David now.

(Blanchard Texas- early afternoon)

Mark Stockman was hungry. He had put those two fuckers into the kiln and expected them to die over the course of the next couple of days. Now he could get a couple of things done in the remaining hours he had to fill before he left for the airport. He was keeping a low profile, staying away from the small town of Blanchard. He had ditched his car last night and stolen another from a senior citizen's home. By the time some old fart realized his station wagon was missing Mark would already be in the air and over the ocean. He put on a blond wig and sunglasses and drove around the County, fiddling with the radio on his way to a drive-through restaurant. By now his disappearance with two patients would be big news locally. At the top of the hour, the music stopped for the latest news.

"A car has been recovered from a pond on the Murphy land outside Markdale. So far no driver has come forward to claim the car as his own. Authorities cannot say at the present time if the car was stolen or abandoned. Police continue their investigation."

Huh! Mark whistled in surprise. The cops had found the FBI man's car but Lynn Michaels was not mentioned! Shit, he must have done a good job of tying her down with a heavy rock! Another story stopped his musings and he leaned forward to listen.

"A Doctor at the Litchfield Psychiatric Home has gone missing along with two seriously ill patients. It is feared the patients took the Doctor hostage. Markdale police are on the lookout for the men but assure the public that they represent no danger to the community. Local TV stations have posted photos of all three missing men. A reward is being offered for any information leading to the location of any of the missing men. Stay tuned for more information as it becomes available."

Stockman almost laughed out loud when he heard this news. The cops had it all wrong! They weren't even after him for his crimes! So what if there was a reward? With his disguises, no one would ever connect him to the disappearance of 'Dr. Litchfield' and his patients. This was the best news yet. He drove away feeling smug and powerful, in his newly stolen car. He had another 5 hours to go before he could go to the airport. Filling those hours would be boring without food and drink. Coffee, beer and cigarettes had been his breakfast this morning so he found his way to the drive-through diner outside Blanchard. He waited until the drive-through was empty, not wanting to be seen by too many other drivers, then placed his order and drove off quickly. Mark ordered enough food to hold him until he had another meal on the plane tonight. He headed back out into the country to park in a secluded spot and eat his meal in peace. Then he planned to withdraw more money from the ATM before he left America for good.


	20. Run For Your Life

Thanks to everyone who took the time to write a review. It's great to hear how this story affects you. And to the new readers who favourited this story, thank you too!

Dead Ringers

Chapter 20

From Darkness into the Light

Back at the cement factory, David had resumed his battle with the heavy steel lid which still covered most of the opening at the end of the kiln. He pressed his thin slippers against the plate and pushed until his calf muscles were shaking from fatigue. He had worked so hard with no results, he was beginning to believe he and Patrick just might not manage to escape from this dusty tomb. Another shove borne of desperation finally rewarded David with a slight movement sideways. Renewed by this tiny bit of success, David continued to push until the steel groaned, the cover moving enough to expose more of the landscape outside the kiln. The sound made his heart leap with hope. Shoving again, the metal lid moved yet again, bit by bit allowing more of the afternoon sunshine to stream into the bleak metal tube.

Only a few more inches to go and David felt sure he could slither through the opening and run for help. Sweating by now in the cold air, he gave the obstacle another series of pushes and felt the metal suddenly release, sliding farther away from the edge of the kiln opening. The opening wasn't wide, but David turned around to test the space, putting his head and shoulders out of the hole. Yes, this was wide enough! Jane lay against the wall of the metal tube several feet away, pressing his bound hands against his side, trying to put pressure on the front of his stab wound to keep his blood loss to a minimum. David ran back and shook Jane to get him up and on his feet, ready to leave the kiln with him.

"Mr. Jane! I got the steel plate out of the way, just enough for us to crawl through. Can you get up and come with me?" David asked while he helped Jane to stand. As soon as he was on his feet, Jane felt like the whole space was swaying, undulating, like a ship on a rough sea. He tipped over and started to fall against the side of the tube, reaching for David with tied hands for support.

"Dizzy" he mumbled, trying to stay upright.

"Come on, lean on me Patrick. I won't leave you behind in here" David assured him, putting his arm around Patrick's body to guide him forward. Together, they slowly hobbled their way towards the light at the end of the kiln. As they got closer to the opening, the air smelled sweeter and sweeter.

"Just another couple of feet and we'll be there Patrick" David encouraged him, while Jane leaned against him heavily, his hands never leaving his aching side. Blood was now freely flowing from underneath his fingers, down his hip and leg, leaving a bloody path in the dust inside the kiln. Patrick felt sick, nauseated from pain and now, blood loss, but he hopped forward until they both stood at the opening at the end of the kiln, leading to freedom. David helped Jane to slice the zip ties off his wrists, then his ankles. Now they both could make their escape. David turned to Jane and explained what would happen next.

"Patrick, listen to me. I'm going to jump out first, then you come after me. I'll help you land as much as I can, but it's going to hurt. No way around it buddy" he said truthfully, fearing the jolt would seriously increase Jane's blood loss. Staying here in this tube wasn't an option any longer.

Jane understood and moved away, giving David enough room to ease his legs out of the tube.

"I'll be fine, just go" Jane encouraged the Doctor, knowing full well this wasn't going to be pleasant.

David eased himself closer to the edge of the opening, extending his legs until they were all the way outside the kiln. Then he wiggled his way through the narrow opening, scraping his arms and body against the sharp metal edges, until his whole body fell out of the tube and he landed on the ground. Winded and cut from the metal lip, he gathered himself up and stood back, facing the kiln.

"Patrick, I'm out! I made it OK, now it's your turn. Can you hear me?" he yelled.

Patrick lay against the wall, his eyes screwed shut, a fever setting in as his stab wound swam with infection from this filthy place. Fighting against the pain, Patrick heard David's voice as if from a great distance.

"Mr. Jane! Come on! No time to rest! Let's get outta here!" David yelled, worried that Jane had fainted on him and would now be unable to gain his freedom.

Inside the tube, Jane roused himself at David's command. David was out...and waiting for him to get off his ass and move. He slid down the metal wall and crawled back to the entrance to the kiln. Looking out, he saw the other man directly underneath him, waving his arms at him, encouraging him to jump.

"I'll try to catch you when you fall" David promised, hoping it would be possible to break Jane's fall against the hard earth. "Swing your legs out of the hole…"

Jane nodded numbly and sat on his backside, letting his legs hang out of the kiln. A warm sensation ran down his hip as the raw holes in his side bled down his back and out of the front of his lower abdomen. Jane looked down at his side and cursed. He knew that if he didn't manage to get out of there, he would die, if not from blood loss, then from infection and sepsis. His options were few and all of them very dangerous. He had to try to get to freedom, to Teresa, to Anika. Patrick could feel his body shaking badly, from exhaustion and low blood pressure. Fear was there too. None of it mattered. He had to keep going, he was almost there! The air was so clean on his face, the wind ruffling his hair as he sat gazing out into the sun. He could hear birds singing outside. It was all so surreal, so peaceful.

Patrick's mouth and throat were bone dry, his stomach rolling with acid and fear, but he put his hands on either side of the opening to prepare himself for the fall. Leaning against the wall, he took a few deep breaths, dizziness threatening to halt his progress. This was no time to fall apart. 'Look! Right there! That's what freedom looks like idiot!' he scolded himself. He prepared to make one last concerted effort to get out of this prison. The edge of the hole he had to crawl through was sharp but as long as he avoided touching the edges of the lid any more than necessary, he wouldn't get too badly scraped up. He was already covered in sweat mixed with dust, coating his body with a dark grey shell. He pulled himself forward and looked outside at the ground a few feet below him, David waiting patiently. This was going to hurt. Badly.

There was no good way to exit the kiln. Feet first or head first, either way he was going to fall out and land heavily in the dirt. Deciding to go feet first like David did to maybe break his fall, Jane slithered forward until his legs were all the way out of the kiln and inched forward, until he reached a tipping point, balancing on his bum. The backs of his legs were scored from the sharp bite of the steel mouth on the kiln.

This was it. He gritted his teeth knowing he would be screaming in pain in a few seconds.

And…

He fell, half into David's waiting arms but mostly hitting the ground feet first, sending shockwaves up his legs and into his abdomen. He screamed and rolled onto his side, crying in pain... but he was free! He rolled over onto his back panting to control his breathing and gazed up at the turquoise sky, tears streaming out of his eyes, realizing it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a very long time.

"Mr. Jane! Patrick! Are you OK?" David asked, checking him for additional injuries. Other than his side bleeding badly now, Patrick had made it without further serious damage.

Jane took a few deep breaths and then gave David the thumbs up sign, even though he felt terrible. He tried to sit up with the Doctor's help. His legs were as loose as jelly, something the Doctor noticed with alarm. Jane had to get to a hospital before his blood loss and sepsis became fatal.

Standing beside the kiln, Jane knew he had to get moving. The worst was over and he was outside. The very thought of being caught again should Mark return made Jane struggle to move forward, unsteady on his feet. A wave of nausea and dizziness threatened to knock him over, so he put his arm around David and slowly took a tentative step forward. The holes in his side sent shockwaves of pain roiling up his body but for now, the pain was the impetus to keep him moving towards freedom.

Jane held his side with one hand while he picked up his pace, shuffling towards the fence with David's encouragement. As each step brought them closer to the edge of the property, the more Jane felt his ability to walk any distance decrease. At this rate, neither of them would reach the gate and make it to the highway. After struggling for another 10 feet, Jane stopped and bent over, his hands on his knees.

"David, you go, leave me here. I can't go any farther" he whispered, feeling like he was going to be sick in the dirt. David panicked. They both had to reach safety, not just him!

"I can't leave you behind Patrick. Look how far we came! Just a bit more and we'll be on the other side of the road" the Doctor lied to Jane, knowing full well they just might not make it that far.

Patrick straightened up and gazed off into the distance. The gate wasn't even within sight yet, and that was their only way out of the locked compound. David was going to lose his best chance to find the police if he stayed with Jane out of loyalty.

"Where's the gate David? Where?" Jane wheezed heavily. "I can't even see it. And if I can't see it, I can't walk that far….leave me here, just go!" he barked, turning around to find another place to hide in case Stockman came back.

David was at a crossroads of conscience. He felt compelled to stay with this injured man, but if he did, then there was a distinct possibility that neither of them would get out and through the gate. Jane started to shuffle away, towards some buildings behind the silos, his mind made up. David made the only decision he could, and ran after him.

"Let me help you get hidden, then I'll run for the highway and bring help, OK Patrick?" he suggested, knowing it was the only way now.

Jane nodded as he grimly walked across the sun-baked ground, David holding him up. Together they made their way towards a series of sheds, storage buildings, maintenance facilities and the silos. If they could break into one, Jane could rest while David found help.

After walking for 30 feet, David let Jane stop and rest while he jogged on ahead, checking the buildings for an open door. Each place he tried was padlocked securely, offering them no shelter. After visiting 4 buildings, David ran back towards Jane and the small building straight ahead of him. He remembered from his days working there that it was a large storage shed used to store cement bags, garbage supplies, tools and twine. The building was insignificant but was most likely locked as well. Taking a chance, he ran around to the door on the far side and tried it. To his great surprise, it was unlocked! No one had considered it important enough to waste a padlock on the door so this would have to be Jane's hiding place. He ran back to Jane only to find him slumped over against a light post, breathing heavily against his debilitating pain. They had to keep going, there was no other choice. The Doctor leaned down and helped Jane to stand once more, urging him on to walk the last short distance to safety.

Patrick was hurting, all of his concentration devoted to taking one step, then another, then another. He swallowed back bile, his stomach rebelling against the nausea building within. A cool drink of water right now would be richer than the best champagne and more life sustaining. Another step, and another, he staggered to the small building with David whispering encouragement in his ear as they shuffled forward slowly in the bright sunshine. There, nestled up against several other abandoned buildings, he could see their goal. A few agonizing minutes later, the door to the shed swung open and Jane stumbled inside the small space, on the point of collapse.

There were old garbage bins and empty cement sacks in heaps around the walls. Racking held more sacks, left behind when the business was shuttered for the last time. Another corner held boxes of industrial thickness plastic garbage bags. David scanned the room and saw a small rectangular wooden hatch in the floor, indicating a space under the old floor. He dashed over to the hatch and pulled the metal ring. After much work, David got it up and open. Below he spied a few cement steps leading to another storage place. It was only a few feet high but if Jane lay down, he could stay hidden under the floor until it was safe to come out. David grabbed Jane and eased him over to the steps by the hatch.

"Just a few steps Patrick, then you can lie down and rest. Come on…" he instructed the man, helping him down the steps into the dusty space.

He had to get on his hands and knees as the space was only about 4 feet high. Grabbing several cement sacks, he spread them on the floor to make it less cold for Jane to lay on. Once he had lowered his patient to the floor, he ran back up the stairs for more sacks, a plan forming in his mind. A few more went under Jane's head for a pillow and two more were wrapped around his cold feet. Then David found some sacks in the middle of a pile that were as dust free as possible. He found a large black plastic garbage bag and brought it back downstairs with him. He took the clean sack and folded it into a tight compress, wrapping it around Jane's waist against the knife wound, eliciting a cry of anguish from Jane when he depressed the ragged entry and exit wounds. The plastic bag was wound tightly around Jane's abdomen, holding the compress in place. David tied it off and leaned back, pleased that maybe this would stop the bleeding until he got Patrick to a hospital. It was the best he could do. Now, Jane had to stay silent and wait.

Jane was in a world of pain but he was aware of what David had done for him. If he survived this day, it would be because of the Doctor's efforts to keep him alive. David covered him up with more sacks then said his goodbyes.

"Patrick, I'm going to make a run for the highway. I'll get help and come back for you, OK? Understand?" he asked, leaning in close to Jane's face to make sure Jane was able to comprehend the plan.

"OK...good...good plan…" Jane whispered, trying to smile. "Run fast" he added before he curled up into a ball and closed his eyes.

"I'll see you soon buddy" David said, putting his hand reassuringly on Jane's arm, then he climbed the four steps back up into the room and closed the hatch.

Before he left, David tossed all of the leftover empty sacks on the floor to create a mess, then scattered some of them over the hatch, to hide it from Mark if he came back to look for them. There was nothing left to do now but start his own escape from here.

The entire factory acreage was surrounded by a fence, and somewhere in it, a locked gate had been opened by Mark to come and go by car. Now David had to run along the fenced perimeter to find the gate that would let him get outside the factory's boundary. There was a lot of ground to cover as there were several gates, but only one that might open. When he did find the exit, he still had to run towards the highway, far off in the distance, to flag down someone to come to Jane's aid. The task seemed hopeless, but he had no other options. So he ran.

(Cho and Teresa - between Austin and Blanchard)

Cho was on the highway to Blanchard when Wylie called him on his cell phone. Switching the call to speakerphone, Cho answered.

"Jason? What's up?"

"We did a rush analysis of the cups you brought back from the Psychiatric Home. There were traces of GHB in the bottom of the cups. That's how Stockman got Jane and the real Doctor out of the Home without a struggle."

"How long would that drug stay in their systems?"

"Depends on each person and their body mass, but for several hours at the least, long enough to move them and get them well hidden."

"Anything else?" Teresa asked hopefully.

"We spotted Stockman's car on CCTV footage pulling up to the bank last night. He withdrew as much as he could from the two accounts we froze today and left. We followed his car until he reached a dark zone with no CCTV cameras. After that, we just don't know where he went."

"What about the press release Wylie?" Cho asked.

"Yes, the news stories you composed about Dr. Litchfield and Mark Stockman have been given to the local TV channels and radio stations and will air in the next hour."

"Excellent.. Thanks Jason. Keep in touch" Cho said, then disconnected the call.

"What do you think Stockman will do once the news about him and his hostages gets out?" Teresa asked.

"All it has to do is shake him up, make him lose his false sense of security. If he lets his guard down, makes a mistake, we'll catch him" Cho assured her.

"Let's hope he does something stupid. So …. Stockman is still drugging Jane" Teresa said with concern. "If he had him strung out on sedatives and hallucinogens, and now GHB...Jane's going to be in rough shape when we find him."

"Something else we'll be charging Stockman with, administering a noxious compound" Cho echoed, worried too.

"Cho, Jane spent time in a mental hospital after his family died. What will these drugs do to him now?"

Cho looked at Teresa and honestly had no answer for her, but he was concerned. Jane was always one personal tragedy away from a complete relapse into his former suicidal persona. Even if Teresa and Anika were safe and well, drugs could convince Jane otherwise. Every hour put him more and more in real danger, not just from physical harm, but in danger of losing his mind.

(Blanchard County)

Stockman polished off his food with gusto then headed for sleepy Blanchard once again, betting that most people were either at work or in school. He was a creature of habit, and so far, staying close to the areas he was most familiar with had been working just fine for him. Once he had his money he'd head towards Austin to kill time before his flight. He believed the random citizen walking down the street would pay him no mind as he withdrew his money, such was his ego. He was wearing his best blond wig and dark glasses, assuming no one would look twice at him. He left the stolen station wagon around the corner from the bank and jogged over to the ATM, quickly putting his bank card in the reader. An error message came up, telling him the account was closed.

Shit!

He tried the other account. It too had been shut down. He smacked the ATM in anger, not being able to handle being prevented from doing whatever the hell he wanted to do. The cops were onto him after all! He looked all around to see if this was a trap. There were no cops in sight, and no one else except a young mother walking by with her little girl. Good. He ran back to his car and took off, raging that a plan of his had been thwarted. At least he had the money from last night but there were still thousands in that damned bank that he needed! Fuck!

Inside the bank, an employee had been instructed to keep watch on the security camera footage of the ATM in case a man tried to withdraw money from Stockman or Litchfield's accounts. He had been gazing at the same boring footage for hours now and no one had tried to access those accounts. He stood up and stretched, wandering over to the coffee machine for yet another cup of bad coffee. Behind his back, an alarm popped up on the screen to tell him the accounts had been accessed, and security cameras caught the image of a very frustrated blond man pounding his fists against the ATM when he couldn't withdraw his funds from those two shuttered accounts. By the time the employee returned with his drink, Stockman was long gone and the alert was fading.

Mark pounded the steering wheel in frustration. He was so used to his plans working out well that this small glitch threatened to send him into a violent tailspin. He drove aimlessly out into the country, having to revise his travel plans now that his limited money would have to stretch much farther. As he passed well known landmarks from his youth, a new idea occurred to him. If he couldn't get what he wanted at the bank, maybe he could end his time in Texas with a bit more fun at the expense of David and Patrick Jane, then head to Austin. His anger would be turned against his captives, giving him no end of pleasure before they died. He turned his car around and headed towards the cement factory one last time.

(Blanchard Cement Factory)

Across the yard, far down along the fence line, David was still running, looking for the gate that was open now. Judging from the leaden balls in his calves, it felt like he had run 10 miles, but several acres in his condition was just about the same. Ahead, a sagging section of fence held up an old gate. Was this his way out? David picked up his feet and ran a little faster, adrenaline now coursing through his body as his hopes were lifted. At last he came to the gate and pulled on the latch. It opened! This was the way out! Almost beside himself with joy, David sprinted through the gate and slammed it behind him, then headed for any section of land that had cover, so he could hide if Mark came back. Across the country road ringing the cement plant was a field filled with bramble and weeds, uncut for years and at least two feet high. That would do perfectly. Running like the devil was on his heels, David headed that way and never looked back.

(Town of Blanchard)

Cho and Lisbon pulled into Blanchard and started to cruise the streets and back alleys, searching for the black car. No one had seen it for hours now, so their quarry may have gone underground somehow. They drove past every parking lot, mall, movie theatre or church, scanning the vehicles searching for David's license plates. Nothing. Mark could be several Counties away from here, or on his way to Houston, Dallas or a hundred other small towns scattered across Texas. Cho and Lisbon knew this might be futile and a stupid waste of time. Since they had nothing else to go on, the search continued, with Cho and Teresa on one side of the town, more Agents scouring the other, and local cops out in the countryside searching as well.


	21. Lost And Found

As promised, here it is Marty! Thanks for all the kind words Rosepeony!

Dead Ringers

Chapter 21

Lost and Found

(Blanchard Police Station)

An thin, elderly man walked slowly into the Police Station on the arm of his middle-aged daughter. He was clearly upset and hoped to get some help from the police. Approaching the front desk, he wasted no time on niceties but asked for a detective, to the amusement of the young desk jockey.

"Hello Sir. Why would you need a detective?" the young officer at the desk asked politely, thinking this old man might be senile. The old guy got right to the point.

"Someone stole my car last night. A real nice old red station wagon...not worth much...but it was mine, bought and paid for!" Walter Holts said with anger. There was nothing wrong with his mind.

"Are you sure you didn't just park it in a different spot and forget where you put it?" the smug officer said condescendingly.

Walter leaned forward and hissed in the young man's face.

"Listen you little dipshit, I probably taught your father physics in high school right here in this town. I can still outthink and outwork most people half my age, so if you think I'm too feeble minded to remember where I parked my car in a 6 car parking lot, you're more simple than you already look!"

Walter's daughter hid her smile behind her hand and let her father twist this young cop into knots. He might be old and unsteady on his feet, but his brain was working just fine.

The young officer looked like he'd been reprimanded by his high school principal, so he picked up the phone to call a more senior officer and get this old bugger out of his sight.

"Someone will be with you shortly" he said, dismissing the two people with a wave of his hand.

"Better be!" Walter retorted, taking his daughter's arm and moving aside. A few moments later an officer appeared and approached them.

"Hi, I'm Officer Barber. How can I help you Sir?"

"Someone stole my car and I want it back!" Walter barked.

"Please come with me and we'll see what we can do to help you" the older Officer suggested, pointing the way to the back of the Station.

Across town, a pair of Officers were driving slowly through the back streets and alleyways, still looking for Stockman's black car. They had canvassed the whole town more or less and considered their search futile by now. Just a few more streets and parking lots to check and then they would give it up for the day. They rounded a corner and drove past the car junkyard just at the edge of town. It was an eyesore but the owner stripped old cars down and sold the parts for his living, so the battered cars piled up higher and higher. His newer purchases were parked in rows against a fence, waiting to be chopped up for parts. The Officers cruised by slowly, having to look hard at each vehicle to make sure they didn't miss one special car amongst so many others.

"Slow down...what's that?" John Caron asked his partner, pointing to a black car half hidden by a filthy tarp.

His partner Murray stopped in front of the half-obscured vehicle and stepped out of the patrol car with John. They walked over to the car with the missing plates and lifted the tarp. Shining the flashlight inside they saw a backseat stained dark with something…

"Looks like oil…." Murray said.

"Hmmm...could be oil…"John mumbled, surprised the license plates had been removed so roughly, judging by the damaged screws on the plate holder. He tried the back door and discovered it was open. He took a tissue out of his pocket and ran it over the back seat, lifting it to the light. It was dark red and still wet.

"Call this in Murray. That's blood!"

While Murray got on his phone, John searched the car for any evidence it had been driven by Mark Stockman. Everything had been removed from the car trunk, but John felt sure there were fingerprints all over the vehicle. He found the VIN number and had Murray call that in, as well as asking for a team to come out and dust the car down for prints. They would know very soon if this car belonged to the missing Dr. Litchfield, and if Jane and the Doctor had been in the car.

The police officer who was interviewing Walter was called away for a moment when the news came in about the discovery of the black car. He passed the call on to the Captain and then turned around to look at the old man.

Could Stockman have stolen Walter's car to drive more freely around the County? He took that information to his Captain as well before he returned to finish talking to Walter and his daughter.

(Blanchard County Rd. #210)

Mark drove down a dusty country road and saw a police cruiser pass him at speed. The officers paid no attention to the blond haired man driving an old station wagon going the other way. As soon as they were out of sight Stockman broke out in peals of laughter, thrilled to have passed right under their noses, the idiots. As the flashing police lights faded in his rear view mirror, Mark turned off onto a side road and headed towards the monolithic cement factory. If he was lucky, he'd be there in time to see Patrick Jane take his last few breaths after he finished with him. Then he'd take his time with his cousin David.

David had reached the weed filled field and felt more and more elated, sure he was on his way to finding help for his new friend Patrick Jane. As long as he kept hidden in the tall weeds and aimed for the busiest road he could find, he would be rescued. He took off in a diagonal line through the brambles to reach the main road quicker, a shortcut learned years ago when he was a rowdy teenager.

A cloud of dust arose five miles down the road, as Mark Stockman approached the cement factory. He was in no hurry. There was no one else around, just him. Far to his left, ahead of him, David was still running through the weeds, heading for the highway which was getting tantalizingly closer by the minute. When he stopped to rest, he saw the dust curling up from the road and wondered who could be approaching the factory. Was it Mark coming back, or the cops coming to rescue Jane? He ducked down in the grass and watched as an old station wagon drove up, a blond haired man at the wheel. He looked familiar…he knew the face.

Fuck it! Mark was back and in disguise! David crouched lower for fear of being seen. Jane was still trapped back there under the floor! Would his cousin find him and kill him now or leave him to die of blood loss and shock? David had a decision to make. Should he go back and help Jane escape and risk being captured again, maybe killed outright? Or should he keep going, looking for help?

He lifted his head up a fraction and saw the car continue towards the factory and made up his mind. Turning around, he bolted through the field with renewed energy. He was going for help!

Mark drove up to the plant and cruised the length of the property until he found the section of fencing he needed. Getting out of his car, he opened the gate, then drove through. He stopped and closed the gate behind him then gunned the motor, speeding towards the large sorting building where he had his cooler full of beer. First, a drink, then he'd visit his prisoners one last time, to laugh in their faces and see them die. He pulled up to the loading dock and sprinted to the door, running inside to the second room where the wooden chairs still stood in the middle of the room. He opened his cooler and pulled out a beer, twisting off the cap and drank deeply. Then he started to gather up his supplies and made his way out of the building for the last time. He threw his sleeping bag, lanterns, cooler and a gun he had hidden in his bedroll into the car and drove over to the horizontal kiln at the far end of the property. He actually hoped Jane was still alive, just so he could hurt him some more. As for his no good cousin, maybe a bullet through the brain would be the best solution after all. Time was of the essence. When both of the men were dead in the kiln Stockman planned to take his time driving to Austin where he'd blend in with the crowds at the large Austin Bergstrom International Airport.

David could see the highway now, just past the next sideroad, busy with traffic hurtling along at speed. He ran out of the weeds and gasped for air, bending over to catch his breath. What he would have given for a drink of water just about now. When he felt he could move again, he jogged along the gravel side road. He continued, hoping someone would come along, but so far, he was totally alone out there.

Mark Stockman was grinning to himself, so happy to have one final chance to torture these two prisoners before he had to go on the run. His idiot cousin was so close, inside his metal coffin with the FBI agent slowly dying in front of him. What perfect torment for such a dedicated doctor! To know how to help an injured man but not have any tools to assist him. Both David and that asshole FBI agent would die in a kiln that no one would look at for years to come, not until the final phase of redevelopment happened this far back in Blanchard County. He could imagine the faces of the construction workers when they tore the old rusty kiln apart and two skeletons tumbled out. Too bad he wouldn't be there to see it and gloat.

Perfect.

Mark finished his beer and threw the bottle far away, listening for the sound of it smashing against a silo. Childish pleasures were still the best he reasoned, then he climbed up to open the kiln. Seeing the steel plate already pushed aside and blood on the edges of the rough opening, he got a sinking feeling in his gut. There was no way those men could have moved it! He swung his legs up and into the kiln. He leaned in and looked down the length of the semi-dark tube. He couldn't make out the shape of the men, so what happened to them?

"Hey cousin! You still alive?" he shouted, peering into the darkness. His voice echoed ever so slightly, mocking his question.

"Davey? Come out come out wherever you are!" he sang. Still silence. This wasn't right. David should be here begging for his life just about now! He dropped down to his knees and examined the floor. Blood spatters pockmarked the layer of dust from the entrance to the spot where he had deposited that FBI man. Straightening up, he advanced farther into the kiln, fear reaching tendrils into his brain.

"David, come out here or I find the cop and put a bullet through his head this time" Mark shouted, wondering where Jane had crawled to. The silence frightened him. Mark ran slowly down the length of the kiln and realized both men were indeed gone! What the fuck? He spun around and raced back up the tube towards the opening and crawled out, jumping down to look around outside. Everything looked the same as always, except for fresh blood in a pool on the ground directly underneath the end of the kiln.

That asshole FBI agent had managed to get out! David must have helped him somehow. Shit shit shit! Mark began to run, but didn't know where to go first. This complex was so vast, so full of equipment left to rust in the yard years earlier that he would waste valuable time searching everywhere for those two bastards. He ran to the silos behind the kiln and banged on the sides, hoping to scare the men into crying out in fear if that's where they had managed to hide. Nothing. He jogged around the yard, looking in every abandoned piece of equipment and hiding place. Then he turned his attention to the other buildings farther away from the silos. Each one was locked, or boarded up. No way could either of his quarry get inside those places. Mark ran back towards the first, smaller building and tried the door, expecting it to be locked as well. He was pleasantly surprised when it opened easily and he stepped inside. The storage shed was a mess, empty cement bags everywhere, on racking, on top of garbage bins, which he looked in, just in case the men were hiding inside. The place was filthy and coated in dust. He kicked the cement sacks in frustration then turned back around, going outside once again to continue his search.

After David left Patrick in the storage shed to run to find help, Jane had drifted off into an uneasy sleep, his exhaustion, thirst and blood loss finally overtaking him. The last of his resources spent, he lay curled up in a fetal position, under a mound of sacks, no longer aware of the danger he was in. His mind drifted back and forth in time, the drugs Stockman gave him having awakened the floodgates of memories long buried. Teresa was there, smiling deeply at Patrick as she walked towards him, her hand reaching out to take his. A warm feeling flooded through his mind as he studied her beautiful smile, but before he could touch her hand, her face faded and was supplanted by Angela's tortured grimace. She cried out to Patrick to save her as a knife, glistening red with blood, slashed through the air and into her ravaged body. Crying out in horror, Patrick saw it all play out, over and over again, on a reel stuck on constant 'replay'.

Charlotte lay next to her mother, her curls draped over her mother's shoulder as if she had just snuggled up to take a nap. Twisting in agony over their deaths, Jane gasped and sobbed in his sleep, newly broken at discovering their mutilated forms nestled in the soft bedding. Red John had arranged both corpses artfully to shock Patrick into madness once he discovered them, and it had worked all those years ago. Now, time was fluid, changing direction like a flock of birds swooping and diving in the sun. The years melted away and Jane was confronted with Angela and Charlotte's deaths today, now, this instant. A scream pierced the silence of the storage shed, but no one heard Jane under the cement floor as he regressed into grief forged delirium. There was no escape, no one to shake him awake and tell Jane that it was alright, that was then, this was now.

Angela and Charlotte had died more than ten years earlier, and he needed someone to tell him that, to bring him back to the present. Without a point of reference, Jane's mind slid back to the worst day of his life, and he cried like a baby, his mental anguish equalled by his physical pain. The minutes ticked by, each one bringing new horrors back to Patrick, deepening his heartbreak. Although the hallucinogen had been administered more than two days earlier, the effects of the drug came roaring back in flashbacks too gruesome not to damage the delicate coping mechanism Jane had constructed over many many years. Now that the hunt for Red John had ended, what would bring Jane out of this chemically induced insanity?

David had a sharp pain in his side from running. He had had no exercise for almost a year, and now he had been running for miles. Every once in awhile he turned around to see if a car was approaching, but so far the road was empty. He was desperate to be found. The highway was close, maddeningly close, but he would have to keep running to attract some attention. Far behind him a rusty pickup truck was chugging down the road. Inside, three young men were listening to country music and smoking weed. They weren't afraid the cops would stop them. These roads were so dead they'd be surprised to see anyone this far out by the old cement factory. They came up over the rise and spied a strange man running along the side of the road.

"Looky looky!" the driver shouted, pointing at David as he made his way towards the highway.

"Looks like we got ourselves a new friend!" cried his buddy next to him in the front seat.

As they drove closer, David heard the truck and stepped out into the road, waving his hands to get them to stop. Inside the truck, the kid in the back seat leaned forward and hooted in derision.

"What the hell is he wearing?"

David was still dressed in his hospital gown, a pair of pajama bottoms and his slippers. To the casual observer, he did indeed look like a mental patient with his wild, long hair in tatters around his shoulders. The boys in the truck slowed down and came to a stop. This would be fun.

David jogged over and leaned against the truck, winded and grateful to have been found.

"Please, help me...call the police...I need help!" he panted, catching his breath so he could explain.

The driver side door opened and the lanky driver came over, appraising the slight man with distaste.

"Cops? Are you crazy man? Not after all the weed we've been smoking! What's with the pajamas sweetheart?" he teased, shoving David away from his truck.

David looked at the young man and his companions and was afraid. He must have looked like a maniac.

"I was kidnapped out of a hospital, but I escaped. I'm a doctor. My friend is still back there at the cement factory, and he's hurt. He's an FBI agent and we need to get the police out here!" David told them, hoping he looked sane, but realizing he sounded bonkers.

"No shit Sherlock!" the oldest of the teenagers shouted, eliciting a round of laughter from his equally disbelieving friends. "What asylum did you escape from again?" he mocked David, shoving him with his fist.

"I'm Dr. David Litchfield, and I've been a kidnap victim for almost a year. Please!" David yelled at the boys, "please help me get to someone who can help me. I don't care if you smoked some weed or took some other shit, just help me get to town!"

The driver loomed over David and couldn't believe his ears. This idiot actually tried to make them believe he was a doctor.

"Yeah, you're a doctor and I'm Elvis Presley" he roared, knocking the Doctor down in the dirt. He would have punched him but the guy was so pathetic, it wouldn't have been worth the effort.

"We're done here. Get some help Elmo" he said to David as all three boys got back into the truck, taking off with spinning wheels while David lay on the ground. There went his best hope of getting to help quickly. Standing up and dusting himself off, David continued on his way, much slower now as he was rapidly running out of strength.


	22. Tightening The Noose

Well this turned out to be a big chapter! Enjoy.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 22

Tightening the Noose

(Markdale Police Station)

Cho and Lisbon were pulling up to the police department in Markdale when Cho turned to Lisbon, an idea bugging at him.

"You know the news we had planted for Mark to hear?"

"Yes?"

"I think it's time to change our approach. That first report didn't generate any tips, and it didn't panic Stockman enough to make a run for the border or the airport. We should put a new press release on the radio and TV and say that there is a reward for any information about Jane, Litchfield or Stockman. Stockman has to be named as our suspect in the kidnapping of Jane and Litchfield, and that a reward is being offered for any information leading to his arrest. See if someone comes out of the woodwork with a sighting."

Teresa looked at the people slowly walking by their car. Surely someone had seen something. Money was a big incentive. Good idea.

"Sounds like a good plan. Make it rich enough and see what shakes out. Explain that Stockman may be wearing a disguise, maybe a beard or moustache or wig. How soon can we make it happen?"

"I'll get Wylie on it so it hits the next news cycle. We'll have it broadcast all over this part of Texas in case Stockman is in another County."

"Thanks Cho" Teresa said, grateful that maybe this would get some tongues to loosen. Someone had to have seen something.

Cho and Teresa walked into the Police station and looked for the Captain. He was on the phone when they found him and he waved them over, happy about something he had just been told.

"Agent Cho, Agent Jane. How goes the search?"

"Nothing so far but we have a few plans to get people talking. Anything new here?" Cho answered.

"Dr. Litchfield's black car has been found. Stockman ditched it in a car junkyard on South Street. The back seat is covered in blood" the Captain told them. Teresa couldn't help herself, she immediately feared the worst.

"An old guy over at Walford's Seniors Home reported his car was stolen at some point overnight. Red station wagon. Could be our guy who took it. We have a BOLO out on it now. If Stockman is still in the area, we'll find him" the Captain assured Cho and Lisbon.

While the Captain was filling them in about the stolen station wagon, Cho's phone rang. Listening intently, he nodded and glanced up at Teresa, smiling. Something else must have happened, she knew that look.

As soon as he put his phone away, Teresa was on him for information. "What is it Cho? Did they find Patrick?"

"Sorry, no, but the bank in Blanchard notified the FBI that Stockman tried to withdraw some more money from both his and Dr. Litchfield's accounts within the last hour. CCTV cameras showed him wearing a wig and dark glasses at the ATM."

"What took them so long to notify us? Didn't they have someone monitoring the footage as it happened?" Teresa said in anger. An hour ago! Stockman could be close to the airport in Austin by now!

"Yeah, the guy they assigned got bored and left to get a coffee, missed Stockman. When he left for a break, someone else reviewed the footage and spotted Stockman."

"Shit!" Teresa was fuming at the ineptitude of the bank employee. Nothing she could do about it now. "What was Stockman driving?"

"He parked around the corner from the ATM but a bit of the front end of the car showed up in the CCTV footage. He was driving an old station wagon, red."

The Captain handed Cho the stolen vehicle report that old Mr. Holts had just submitted. Cho read the description and handed it to Teresa. "We've got him. He's close. This is his biggest mistake. He doesn't know we found his black car. If he gets anywhere near civilization, one of our guys will stop him!"

"As soon as this gets out to our Uni's we might finally get some sightings of Stockman. That reward the media is going to announce might push someone to remember if they saw any of them recently" Teresa added hopefully.

The Captain wandered over to the old man and his daughter, assuring them he took the theft of Walter's car very seriously. A BOLO was going out over every law enforcement officer's radio and computer immediately. Cho found a quiet corner to check in with Wylie and give him the latest news.

Wylie had been busy while his boss was away from the office in Austin. He had contacted any and all airports in that part of Texas to be on the lookout for either Mark Stockman or David Litchfield on any passenger lists. A call had just come in from Austin Bergstrom Airport in Austin to inform the FBI that a Mark Stockman was booked on a flight that evening to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam. Stockman had made his plans to disappear with a one-way ticket! If they didn't catch him locally, they would lie in wait for him at the airport tonight.

Cho grinned in approval. Before the day was over, Stockman would be in handcuffs. Teresa sat in the Station watching everyone work their hardest to locate Jane and David and bring Stockman to justice. She felt the first stirrings of hope that maybe they might finally be on the right track to end this nightmare.

As soon as Cho was done, he found Teresa and headed back outside to their SUV.

"Someone must have seen Stockman. He can't stay hidden forever and we'll catch him as soon as he surfaces. He thinks he's smarter than everyone, and that's his weakness" Cho predicted before he told her the latest news about the ticket Mark bought for a flight to Vietnam. He wasn't going to get away again.

Teresa gazed out of her window and hoped he was right. Time might be running out for Mark Stockman, but the clock was ticking for Patrick as well. Jane had been missing for too long and that blood in the car? It just might be his.

(Blanchard Cement Factory)

After leaving the small storage shed unaware that Jane was still safely hidden beneath the floor, Stockman rampaged around the grounds of the old factory, furious that both of his hostages had managed to get away. That was his own fucking fault. He should have just murdered them back in the sorting room and none of this would be happening. His knife had only slowed that FBI agent down, not killed him, another mistake. He should have just shot him. Now he had to find both men before he left for the airport and that clock was quickly running out. Within the hour, he had to kill them and bury them so deep no one would ever find their rotting bodies.

He checked every building around the kiln and shuttered offices, but there was no sign of a disturbance anywhere. Back in his car, he drove over to the building where he had first held them as hostages. Did they go back there to hide out? Ten minutes of fruitless searching produced no sign of them, and Mark had the sinking feeling that they were truly gone - out there, beyond the fence. Various scenarios ran through his frustrated mind. Perhaps he hadn't wounded that FBI agent as badly as he had assumed and the asshole could run with David to freedom. They could be talking to the cops right now. He stood on the loading dock and gazed at the endless fields of weeds and brambles across the road from the plant. Anyone could lie down in that field and disappear. Was David staring at him right now with Jane and laughing his ass off at Mark's stupidity? Throwing down his cigarette, Stockman ran back to his car and pulled out, tires squealing, and barrelled towards the gate. He'd find that self-righteous son-of-a-bitch and kill him if it was the last thing he ever did.

Jane lay in a small pool of blood in the sub-basement of the small shed. His bleeding had slowed down as his body chilled, but he was so far out of it he was no longer aware of his surroundings, his pain or the cold. His mind had tortured him for what seemed a lifetime as he lay hidden, and with every memory revealed and shown to him in minute detail, he twisted and turned on the hard floor, his body trying to escape what his mind showed him. Now at his limit physically, he had gone into shock, and if he was not found quickly, he would die before David managed to flag down someone to help him. As his pulse slowed down, his mind shut down too, until everything was peacefully black.

David finally reached his goal, staggering onto the shoulder running along the highway leading into Blanchard. He walked to the edge of the ribbon of asphalt, waving his arms frantically over his head to attract attention. Car after car of curious onlookers gawked at him as they drove by, laughing at the crazy guy dressed in his pajamas waving at them from the side of the road. No one saw his desperation or pain, just an oddball to be avoided. David considered darting out into the road to make someone stop, but that would most likely just get him killed. He took off his hospital gown and waved it over his head, begging for someone to confront him.

As driver after driver avoided him, David felt like crying in desperation. Mr. Jane had to be dead by now, shock and blood loss his final conqueror. He walked along the highway's edge, still calling out to the passing cars, but hopeless, fearing that even if he was picked up, it was going to be too late to save his new friend.

(Walmart- Blanchard County)

The rusty pickup truck pulled in to the Walmart parking lot and the three stoners emerged, hungry for snacks and soft drinks. They strolled into the giant store and and the driver snatched up bags of chips, peanuts, candy bars, a bottle of soda and some magazines. While he stuffed some of the smaller items and stolen cigarettes into his jacket before he stood in line to pay for the bigger snacks, the other two kids wandered off to the electronics department to maybe steal some new DVD's of their favourite movies, maybe a few CD's of music too. A wall of televisions covered the back of the store and caught the youngest man's attention while his buddy quickly reached into a big bin of DVD movies to jam into his oversized jacket. Seeing his friend carry out the theft, the youngest of the three said nothing but instead turned his attention to the latest superhero movie playing on a large screen. Another television close by was showing the latest news at the top of the hour. There on screen was a photo of Patrick Jane, Dr. David Litchfield and Mark Stockman. The kid recognized two of those faces, so he paid closer attention to the news. Two of the men the announcer was talking about looked like twins. The announcer was describing how all three men were missing and that the police were looking for them. At the mention of a cash reward, the youngest teen grew more interested, taking a close look at the missing men. The guy in the middle looked familiar, so did the last guy, Stockman.

"Hey, come here!" he called to his buddy.

"Piss off…" his friend said, pocketing some small electronics.

"Come here! Look at this! We know this guy!" the kid insisted.

"It's just the boring old news, who gives a shit?" his friend asked with annoyance, not coming over to see for himself. Only old people watched the news.

"Isn't that the crazy guy in the pajamas we saw on the road out by the cement factory this afternoon?" the kid said, pointing to the doctor.

"No, it isn't. Our guy had long hair."

"OK, but imagine the doctor with long hair...didn't our guy say he was a doctor, and that someone had kidnapped him and another guy?"

"Yeah….so? The guy was stoned worse than us!'

"So? It's true - look, there's a reward for them on the TV!" his friend whispered in happiness, seeing himself suddenly rich.

His stoned friend studied the faces but was too addled to admit the kid might be right.

"Let's call the cops and tell them what we saw" the young man whispered eagerly.

"Yeah...sure...and get busted for smoking up all day...no thanks!" his friend said, dismissing the whole thing as a crock. Who would voluntarily talk to the cops? Geez...

The younger man turned back and saw that the story had ended, another one taking its place about a stolen car. He watched his wasted friend walk away with the stolen goods bulging in his jacket. The kid had only gone a few steps out of the department before a security guard put his beefy hand on his shoulder and stopped him. As he saw his friend being led away for a search, the younger man shook his head in frustration. It was always the same shit with his buddies. Get high, steal something, repeat. It was just a matter of time before one of them got caught, and today was the day. Suddenly his funny friends looked a little pathetic to him. Watching his buddies steal and stumble through the store was kind of lame, he realized. Did he look that stupid too? He needed to stop all this and do something else. He would never admit it to his friends, but spending time in jail was his biggest fear.

Eyeing his other friend try to get through the security scanner at the front of the store and get caught by the alarm screaming, he reached a decision. His buddies were losers and so was he if he did what they did each and every time they entered a store. Sooner or later, it would be him under arrest. Screw it! He was going to call the cops and take the chance he was mistaken about that weird guy out on the country road. If he was right, he could collect the whole reward all by himself!

He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed 911, nervous and afraid he was being reckless.

"911, what is your emergency?"

The young man spilled his story out quickly, telling the 911 operator about seeing David Litchfield along a country road begging to be rescued, then mentioned the reward. The operator perked up and took all of his information. This was the break the cops had been praying for.

"Where is the man now? Did you pick him up?" the woman asked the kid.

"Ummm, no. My friends thought he was just a crazy guy so we left him on the road. He's probably still out there" the kid added lamely, kicking himself now that he hadn't believed the poor man.

"Thank you for telling me this. We'll send out a search party and get back to you later" the operator told him before she called in the tip.

The kid put his phone away with shaking fingers. Did he just do something really really important here? Did he just do something heroic? Suddenly, his friends didn't seem quite so appealing anymore. He ran out of the store leaving his friends behind to explain how the stolen goods somehow migrated into their jackets. He wanted to be completely sober when the cops came to speak to him, hopefully with a big cheque in hand!

The 911 operator called the Markdale Police and informed them of the sighting of Dr. Litchfield. An APB went out and all available officers were to respond to the area immediately. Cho and Lisbon got the call next, and they headed towards the wide open roads of Blanchard County. The doctor was still out there somewhere and they hoped to find him before Stockman did, again. The noose was definitely tightening now, but on who's neck?

(Blanchard County, Hwy 214)

David sat by the side of the road, thirsty and exhausted. No one was stopping, no one cared enough to question an odd looking man wandering down the side of the road. He rested against a tree and watched the world drive by as if he was invisible. That's how people died, he realized. By being invisible, in plain sight. When this ordeal was over, he knew that he could no longer live the comfortable and predictable life he had created for himself. There were plenty of other doctors who could run a Home for people wealthy enough to put their relatives in a luxury facility, and there were other excellent facilities less wealthy mentally ill people could go to. No, after this, he would devote himself to those marginalized people who remained invisible, even in a crowd. He had experienced it first hand today, just for a short time, but the effects were deadly. He could die right out here because he didn't look acceptable, even though he was a doctor. He pulled his hair back and tried to tie it into a ponytail to look less intimidating, then stood up and waved his arms again, begging for someone, anyone, to stop and rescue him.

Cho and Lisbon were coming towards Blanchard County from Markdale and sped along the highway, focussed on getting out into the country where the boy said he saw the Doctor. The local police were already canvassing the area for the stolen station wagon and Mark Stockman. This part of Texas was criss-crossed with endless back roads that all had to be searched. It truly would be like looking for a particular sea shell at a large beach. Teresa gazed out of her passenger side window at the dry landscape scrolling by and felt like a race horse being held back at the starting line. She just wanted to get out and run to Jane, find him and bring him home, now, immediately! Now that someone had seen David, recently, she needed to be physically involved in bringing Stockman to justice. Her frustration was at an all-time high, but Cho said nothing, knowing she had to work this out herself. Ahead, on her right, she saw a man standing on the side of the road, bare chested, wearing baggy pants and house slippers. He appeared to be waving his shirt and annoying drivers as they sped by.

"Cho? Look at this character" she said dispassionately, pointing to the man as they approached. Cho slowed down and stared, thinking he needed to call this in and have the man picked up for being drunk, high or dangerous.

Lisbon studied the man and suddenly grabbed Cho's hand, suddenly agitated.

"Stop! Stop the car!" she yelled, even as Cho slowed down to see what she could see.

As the car came to a stop a few feet away from the man on the shoulder of the road, he dropped his shirt and hobbled over to their SUV.

"Oh thank God...thank God! Please, take me to the police, I beg you…" he began before Lisbon opened her car door and stepped out.

"Dr. Litchfield?"

David almost dropped to his knees in relief. Someone knew who he was!

"Yes! I'm David Litchfield. You have to help me. I was kidnapped and my friend is still being held hostage at the cement factory up the highway. His name is Patrick Jane!" he babbled to an amazed Teresa.

"I believe you, we were looking for you. We're with the FBI. Patrick works with us. You need to be seen by a doctor, but we believe you" she said as she guided him into the back seat of the SUV. He looked like he had been beaten judging from the blood oozing out of his feet and ankles, and the large bruise blooming across his jaw.

"Cho, this is David Litchfield, the real David Litchfield" she announced, before turning around to give the poor man a water bottle.

"Please, tell us exactly where Mr. Jane is being held. Is he OK? Is he hurt?' she asked in a rush.

Taking a long pull of water, the Doctor wiped his mouth off on his arm and turned to face her as Cho sped down the highway.

"Patrick and I were both drugged and taken out of the Home by Mark Stockman, my cousin. We tried to escape, but Mark stabbed Patrick and he's in bad shape!"

Cho called it in while listening to the Doctor's story. Teresa covered her mouth with her hands in shock. Patrick had been stabbed!

"And?" she asked impatiently.

"When I left him, he was at the old cement factory in Blanchard County, hidden under the floor in an old shed."

Seeing the confusion in Teresa's face, he continued. "I found a safe place to hide him from Mark, in a crawl space under the floor. But he needs to be found, soon. He's lost a lot of blood."

Teresa had to face her greatest fear, that they would find Patrick, but it would be too late. David interrupted her morbid thoughts.

"We need to get him out of there and into a hospital. The factory's not far from here. I can show you the way to the shed when we get there" he offered, but Cho wouldn't hear of it. The man needed to be far away from there in case Stockman was still gunning for him.

"But I know where Patrick is!" David said in exasperation.

"And we'll get him, but we'll get there with backup. You need to go to the hospital to get checked out. An ambulance will meet us up ahead and then we'll go in and get Patrick" Cho ordered the man.

David didn't argue, as the last of his burst of adrenaline was gone, now that he was finally safe, but he had no intention of letting Jane die. He lay back and felt like he was a hundred years old. He feared it might be it too late for the FBI man, but maybe they would be in time to catch Stockman.

As Cho stepped on the gas and turned on his siren, Teresa grasped her cross necklace and said a silent prayer for Jane's deliverance from his precarious situation. She prayed they would find her husband, and not a corpse.

(Blanchard Cement Factory)

Stockman was cruising along the road running outside of the cement factory fence, driving back towards Blanchard looking for David. The car radio was blaring some inane country tune but Mark barely took any notice. He was too busy looking out into the fields and the side of the road for his cousin. He knew David would have to run along here eventually, and if he did, Mark would find him and kill him. What Mark didn't know was that ahead of him and all around him, a convoy of police cars and FBI vehicles were converging on the sole road leading to the cement factory. Eventually, they would all collide. As the last song ended and the announcer started to broadcast the news, Stockman reached for the dial to turn the station off. Just as his fingers hit the dial, he heard his name mentioned. Now all of his attention was on the tinny sound of the announcer's voice, informing the listeners to be on the lookout for an old red station wagon driven by Mark Stockman, a fugitive wanted for murder and kidnapping, giving a detailed description of him.

Stockman turned off the radio and rained a string of obscenities down on his cousin's head. That fucker was going to die! Any hope of driving around unnoticed was gone now. He got five miles down the road when he saw the first of the convoy of police vehicles, their sirens blaring and lights flashing blue/red, blue/ red coming over the country road the next concession over. He had seen them but they couldn't see him, not yet anyway. He jammed on the brakes and made a u-turn, as this way out was now blocked. Overhead he heard a police helicopter in the distance, so he returned the way he had come, seeking a hiding place.

This was all David's doing! He must have reached the highway and flagged down the cops! Mark cursed his stupidity for not killing the bastard last night. If he could stay hidden and sneak out later, he'd still make a run for the airport, even if he caught a later flight, to anywhere, he didn't care now. He considered ditching the car and hiding in the tall weeds in the field across the road from the factory, but an infrared heat-seeking police helicopter would give him away almost immediately. His body would glow on their tracking system, so that was out of the question. No, he had to get somewhere secure and low, preferably underground and wait the cops out. The gate to the cement factory up ahead was partially open so Mark drove right into it, crumpling the front end of the station wagon. The property was so vast, it would take quite a while for the cops to search for him so he headed to the far end of the plant, where the silos stood like sentries against the horizon. Back there, he knew one building might be unlocked. If he could barricade himself inside, he'd have a fighting chance to slip by the cops as they searched for him everywhere else.

(Blanchard Cement Factory)

Below the floor in the small shed, Jane coughed and the resulting pain in his gut woke him up with a start. Looking around the gloomy space he found himself in, he couldn't figure out where he was, but he was sore, aching from lying on a hard cement floor. His body had warmed up slightly under all of the cloth cement sacks. As he gazed around at his tomb-like surroundings, he began to panic. The ceiling was very low, he felt he could just reach up and touch it with his fingertips. Why was he down here? Did someone think he was dead and bury him prematurely in a sarcophagus? As his heart rate rose Jane had to use all of his biofeedback techniques to calm himself down until he could make sense of his predicament. The small space was almost completely dark, dusty and cold. Taking deep breaths to clear his mind, Jane tried to remember the last thing he had done that day. Time was not his friend, not now, not with his memories running roughshod over his mind and emotions. Today...or yesterday...or ten years ago...what was it - really? As he tried to sit up, the pain in his side rocked him, sending him crashing back to the floor. He could move a little, sending shockwaves of pain across his abdomen and down his back. That was it! He was injured, stabbed, on the run from...now he remembered. He was hiding from Mark Stockman. David had hidden him down here.

He had no idea how long he'd been down in the crawl space. The sun was shining brightly when he escaped from the kiln, but for all he knew it was night now. He tried again to sit upright, but the pain was too intense, causing him to tip over once more with a loud cry of anguish, hitting the nearby wall. His strength was gone, but his spirit was still willing to try to get home to Teresa and Anika. He just didn't know how to do it. As visions of Charlotte and Angela mixed in with thoughts of his new wife and child, Jane involuntarily shook his head, in a futile effort to shake loose the old memories and place them firmly back behind their respective doors in his memory palace. He felt like he was living with one foot in the past, and one foot in the present. Whatever drug Stockman had injected into him, it was still working it's evil way through his mind.

Outside the cement factory, the convoy of police cars and FBI vehicles, tactical SWAT teams and ambulances finally arrived at the gate, driving Stockman forward like a fox chased by hounds. An officer opened the battered gate and ushered the assembled vehicles inside where they dispersed in all directions, searching for the old station wagon and Mark Stockman. David was just inside the gate, where Cho put him in an ambulance, having refused to leave until he knew that Jane had been set free.

Cho assembled his FBI agents in front of the building where Mark had first taken Jane and David. A floor plan of the whole factory and the surrounding property had been forwarded to each team on their tablets. A grid was set up and would be searched by several teams of agents and police officers. Cho gathered his people around him and gave out assignments. In minutes, they were on the run, searching for Stockman. Cho and Teresa were going to drive to the other end of the property where David said the shed housed Jane. David had begged Cho to be allowed to come along, but that suggestion was met with a harsh 'no'. Minutes after Cho had left him, David put his own plan in motion and dashed out of the ambulance to find Jane himself. Now Cho stood near Teresa and faced the building with the loading dock, ready to leave.

"Cho! Look!"

Cho jogged over to where Teresa stood gazing down at the ground by the edge of the dock and followed her eyes. She was staring at a jagged circle of dark liquid that had soaked into the hard earth, hours ago apparently.

"Blood" Teresa said simply.

Cho nodded and took a photo with his phone, then turned towards the building again, with Teresa close behind. More blood on the loading dock. They ran up to the dock and forced the rusty door open. As soon as they stepped through into the cavernous room, the first thing they saw was a bloody handprint on the door post. Teresa held her hand next to it. It was large, about the size of Jane's hand.

"This is where he had them Cho. This is where he stabbed Jane."

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that it was as David said, Jane was badly wounded, and here was the proof. Cho called some agents over to search the building, not daring to take the time when he could be searching for Jane where David said he had hidden him. FBI agents ran inside the sorting room to look for Stockman, and found evidence of the hostages. The second room showed signs of a struggle, with two heavy oak chairs in the middle of the room, zip ties still laying beneath them. A hose still dripped water across the floor and they saw the broken beer bottle smashed on the cement floor. What the hell had Mark Stockman done to his prisoners here?

Cho and Teresa ran for their vehicle and drove to another area on the grounds far at the back of the factory, praying that someone, somewhere had found Jane and Stockman. Unbeknownst to Cho and Lisbon, David was already well on his way, running across the hard packed dirt towards his friend Patrick. David had been going mad with anxiety just sitting uselessly in the ambulance outside the factory gate. This was his cousin they were after, his no-good, murderous psychopathic cousin. Aside from hunger and thirst, lacerations on his ankles and a huge welt on his head, David knew he was OK. Jane...not so much. He knew this place better than the cops, maybe even better than Mark. He knew which buildings would make the best hideouts and which were most likely heavily locked. Those places were a waste of time to search. Jane had been in the storage shed. Unless…

No. Mark couldn't have found him and moved him. Jane was too cumbersome now to try to relocate elsewhere. David felt sure that if he could just get to the far back side of the property, he'd find Jane where he'd left him under the floor.

With the cops on his tail, Mark had ditched his car on the other side of the silos, far enough away that if the cops discovered the car there, they would waste precious time before they made their way back over to the small building containing the cement sacks. He jogged back towards his goal, keeping behind the silos and any other equipment or buildings, out of sight. So far, he hadn't seen any cops this far back on the property yet. Overhead, the helicopter was approaching, so he hit the dirt in the deep shadow of an old truck bed. He lay on his back, looking up, but the pilot only saw a rusted out truck with no one inside it. He was still undiscovered. The same panic was creeping up on him that he felt when he was on the run in Thailand two years ago, when he had been on the verge of going to jail on a drug charge. He had paid someone a huge amount of money to smuggle him out of the country before he was put behind bars. That feeling, the knowledge that he could be out of luck and in handcuffs at any moment, made him sick with fear and rage. Fuck his goody goody cousin all to hell!

David was now fueled by adrenaline and the faint hope that he wasn't too late...maybe. He ran towards the edge of the property where the silos stood guard over the kiln. The police were busy searching inside buildings and took no notice of him as he ran by. The distance was a hindrance, but since he had no car, he could only jog as fast as his legs would carry him. Ahead of him, Mark approached the small building and, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one could see him, slipped inside the small building and pulled the door tightly closed behind him. He needed to wait until the chopper was on the other side of the factory property to make his escape.

Once inside, Mark looked for something to barricade the door, to keep the cops at bay should it come to a shootout. Amidst the sacks thrown all over the floor and the racks, he spotted an iron rod, long enough to jam into the door to keep intruders out. Then he crouched down by the window and peered out, looking to see where the police were. The helicopter hovered overhead, so he dared not make a dash for the fenceline just yet. He felt sure he could scale the fence and leap to freedom on the other side, if only the chopper would piss off.

The radio on the FBI SUV crackled to life with a message for Cho. Evidence of Jane's presence had been found straight ahead at one of the kilns. The FBI agents had called in and reported that they found blood stains at the base of the kiln, but it was empty. Jane was gone. Pulling up in a cloud of dust and parking, Cho and Teresa ran over to see what had been found. Teresa ran her hands through her wild hair and stepped away, knowing she was close to Jane, she was sure of it, but still no closer to putting her arms around him.


	23. Thud Thud Thud

It might be spring wherever you are, but as of today, April 15th, we are in the middle of a terrible ice storm. Too dangerous to go out and drive anywhere. Might as well stay in and write!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 23

Thud Thud Thud

The kiln lay like a long grey worm suspended above the hard packed earth. Teresa stood at the base of the enormous structure, staring at the dry blood on the ground. There were no footprints to tell them which direction Jane had gone, or where to look for Jane or Mark, if Mark now had recaptured Jane. As they started to jog back to their car to drive to the shed, the sound of panting to their left signalled the arrival of David. He had woven his way around the property to remain undetected, but now, he ran right into the FBI.

"I thought I told you to stay back by the fence!' Cho yelled angrily. He didn't need another civilian to worry about right now. "Get back!"

"Sorry Agent Cho, but I just couldn't stay back. I know my way around here, better than any of you. You haven't found anything yet have you?" he said breathlessly.

"No, but that doesn't mean you should be involved with the search" Cho answered, ticked off with David but understanding his need to help catch his crazy cousin.

"Well I'm here now, so I plan on staying close. Sorry Agent" David said with finality.

"We don't have time for this crap!" Teresa barked, walking to the car to continue looking for Jane in the shed all by herself if necessary. Cho sighed and joined her, hoping David kept a safe distance. David ran along behind the agents but kept his eyes open for any sign of Mark or Jane. All three got into the SUV, Cho angry at David, but David didn't care. Far to the left of the FBI agents and ahead of them, Stockman turned away from the gazing out of his window to survey his small kingdom. This room provided no cover if the FBI came storming in. He had to get out soon or he would be trapped here and maybe shot. Peeking out of the window again, he saw a group of FBI agents come around the corner but turn away from his hiding place. He still had time to sprint away now that the chopper had flown to the other side of the compound. It was now or never.

Mark got up and walked quickly across the floor, scattering empty cement sacks with his feet as he made his way to the door. He had just reached for the iron bar to unbolt the door when he heard a loud moan in the room.

'What the fuck?' he thought, startled to hear another human voice in the small space. He swung around and stared into the empty room. What the hell was going on?

Beneath the floor, Jane had awakened again and vaguely remembered where he was. He had to get out, get some air, maybe some water. He wasn't thinking straight, not understanding the danger he would be in if he made himself visible. He pulled himself up, grasping the walls for support. The effort made him cry out against his pain as he held his side. He had no idea he was no longer alone in the building.

Mark crept slowly back into the middle of the room, confused and scared. Sounded like a ghost, but that was bullshit. He couldn't see any other doors or places in the ceiling to hide. The floor was covered in sacks, dusty and piled one on top of another. He swept the floor with his foot, clearing away some sacks to show the grey cement floor beneath. Nothing strange about that. He swept the floor once again with his foot, pushing sacks aside to reveal more of the ugly floor. He must have been imagining things. As he turned to go, the sunlight from the window glanced off something shiny on the dull cement floor.

Stockman stopped and stared. What was that? He walked quietly towards the thing that caught his attention and bent down to inspect this piece of metal. It was a metal loop, a handle set into a recessed plate bolted into a wooden section of the floor. A trapdoor! Brushing more of the sacks aside, the entire wooden hatch was revealed. Mark squatted down and fingered the latch. There on the metal and the edges of the wood, was a bloody handprint. He smiled deeply as he grasped the handle and slowly raised the latch. Directly below him about 4 feet down in a crawl space, sat Patrick Jane, clutching his bloody body, covered with a mound of sacks, and staring right up at him in shock.

Stockman straightened up in surprise. That miserable FBI Agent had been under his feet this whole time! Laughing at the absurdity of it, he stepped down into the crawl space and grabbed Jane by the arm and dragged him up onto his knees, pulling him up the short staircase and into the room. The harsh sunlight pierced Jane's weary eyes, as he tried to fight back against his much more powerful assailant. Jane crawled more than walked up into the opening, his legs all but useless. As soon as he cleared the last step Jane fell face first onto the floor, screwing his eyes shut against the light and burning hot poker in his side. Infection had already set in around the ragged stab wound and was eating its way through Patrick's soft tissues.

"If it isn't James Fucking Bond!" Mark sneered, standing over Jane's pale body. "Not so smart now are you?" he gloated. Jane lay with his eyes closed, his worst nightmare coming true. It was crystal clear to him now that he had run out of time.

"Neither are you…"Jane whispered, his voice a dry raspy instrument. "You should have been gone by now. What happened?"

"What happened? You happened! Shithead David happened! Now the whole place is crawling with cops and I find you, the cat with nine lives!" Mark said with pure hatred.

"So go...just...go…"Jane wheezed, not understanding why Stockman was wasting time with him.

Mark hadn't forgotten his plan to run before the FBI came in here, to this building where he would surely be trapped. But Jane was alive! That bastard would talk if he didn't kill him now. He reached around to his pocket to pull out his slim knife. All he had to do is slit this bastard's throat and he'd be done with him, finally. The knife was gone! At some point he'd lost it...evidence that the Feds would surely use against him if they found it with Jane's blood on it.

Shit! Well, he could still kill this asshole, not a problem. He calmed down and put his foot on Jane's back.

"Oh I'm going, got my plane ticket to Vietnam all ready, my bags packed. The only thing left to do is put a bullet in your head so you don't talk to the Feds outside" he said, reaching behind his back for the gun he had jammed into the back of his waistband. Jane's eyes flew open at the mention of a gun. He had to talk his way out of being shot.

"Stupid move, but go ahead, I'm bleeding out anyway" Jane said softly. Saying it was one thing, hoping it wasn't actually true was another.

Stockman pointed his gun at the back of Jane's head while Patrick closed his eyes, hoping he could still talk his way out of there.

"Stupid move? I don't think so G-man!"

Stockman pulled the safety off and put his finger on the trigger, the 'click' sending pure terror up Jane's spine.

"Like I said….stupid move Stockman. No one knows you're here and you're going to shoot me for some small bit of revenge? Yeah, that won't make any noise. Great idea. The Feds will be on your back in five minutes, but sure...go ahead and enjoy your last minutes of freedom."

Mark's grin fell from his face and he knew Jane was right. The sound of the gun would be like a cannon going off, echoing against the cement floor and metal walls of the shed. Fuck! Even now he couldn't just shoot the bastard!

Jane lay crouched over, Stockman's heavy foot pressing him against the floor, still waiting for the back of his head to be blown off. In a few seconds, if he hadn't persuaded Mark to put the gun down, he'd never know what hit him. Either way, he wasn't going to last much longer. Visions of Teresa and Anika danced like a home movie through his mind, their smiling faces carrying him away from this wretched place. He called out to them mentally…

'I love you Teresa...I love you Anika…be good for Mummy'..

Just thinking those thoughts made his heart ache with sadness for the future that could have been.

A 'click' alerted Jane that Mark had changed his mind and put his gun away. Looking up in surprise, Jane saw a photo dangling in front of his eyes that sent an icy spike of fear through his heart. It was the photo Jane had kept in his vest pocket. Stockman had one final cruelty to inflict on his prisoner.

"Nice family G-man. Beautiful little girl. Your cop wife is one hard ass agent...but this little one? As soon as I finish with you, I'll have my fun with KiKi" he grinned, gazing at the picture approvingly.

"Father's Day card? Huh...Daddy? Oh look, it's at a park in Austin. Close to home maybe? I should go to your house, take her out for the day. Maybe I'll take her swimming in the pond too, just like I did with Lynn Michaels. Sound good G-man?" Stockman laughed, thoroughly enjoying the anguish on Jane's face as he realized he couldn't save his daughter, his second daughter. He couldn't even warn Teresa that Stockman was coming for Anika! Mark continued his monologue, knowing Jane's sad past.

"Your track record with kids sucks . First Charlotte, now KiKi. But you won't care, will you? You'll be dead so...whatever I do to your darling daughter, you'll never know. On the other hand, her mother might not ever recover from the loss of her beautiful girl" he smiled, pocketing the photo as Jane floundered on the cement floor, trying to get up to attack this cruel man. Stockman stepped back and watched him with sadistic satisfaction, completely in control of this broken man and his emotions. Jane tried time and again to get up only to fall back down, eliciting a harsh snort of derision from Stockman with each failed attempt to attack him.

Time was ticking away quickly and much as he enjoyed tormenting Jane, Stockman had to leave now, before the FBI found the small building. As Jane lifted his head one more time, he only had time to see the crazed look in Mark's eyes as his fist pummelled his unprotected head. The onslaught didn't last long. After the first punch, Jane was out make sure Jane didn't come to and alert the Feds, Mark grabbed a heavy duty garbage bag and dragged it over Jane's head, twisting it at the base around his neck. Mark made sure the thick bag would cut off Jane's air supply and within a very short time, this shithead Agent would suffocate before anyone could possibly find him in here.

Now that Jane was taken care of, Mark quickly glanced out the small side window and saw movement, the Feds were coming around to his hiding place! It was now or never! He ran for the door and pulled it open, running out towards the fence, the building shielding his escape from the view of the FBI agents coming towards the shed. He jumped up, grasping the chain links and toed his way upward, climbing towards the now sagging top of the fence. Desperation and adrenaline propelled him higher and higher, the top of the fence now within sight, and the nearness of the road beside the factory a beacon calling out to him. As he lifted his foot to gain purchase to the next few feet of fencing, a heavy metal disk flew silently through the air, clipping Mark on the back of his head, knocking him off the fence without warning. Landing heavily, Mark lay on his injured back, all of the air blown out of his lungs, leaving him gasping like a fish out of water.

Footsteps approached and Mark looked up into David's grim face. He had found the metal disk in a pile by the side of the shed, and hurled it at his cousin as his final attempt to stop the madness. Another disk that David had found was in his hands, ready to be thrown if necessary. Mark lay stunned on the ground as Cho, Teresa and other agents rounded the corner of the building and found David standing over his prone cousin.

"He's all yours" David said with disgust, throwing the disk on the ground. Cho was on Mark immediately to prevent him from getting up. He flipped the dazed man over and found his gun, handing it to Teresa while he zip tied his arms behind his back. Two other agents grabbed Mark by the upper arms and stood him up. A large gash was oozing blood from the back of his head and he was unsteady on his feet.

"Looks like you need a doctor" Teresa goaded him sarcastically. "Where's Patrick Jane?" she yelled at him.

"Too late!" Stockman said, spitting at Teresa. Cho shoved him away and instructed his agents to take him into custody.

David didn't waste valuable time to watch his cousin being hauled away, instead he turned and ran towards the shed to free Jane and end this terrible day. The small building directly in front of him is where Mark had been hiding and Jane had been stashed under the floor. Could Jane have remained hidden right under Mark's feet?

David ran as quickly as possible to the door with Cho and Teresa on his heels. Ramming the door open, David discovered Jane's crumpled, half naked body sprawled in a heap amongst the cement sacks on the floor, a black plastic bag tightly secured around his neck. Lisbon pushed past him, horrified at what she saw.

"Jane! Oh my God! Jane!" Lisbon screamed, running into the small space. Her fingers scrabbled against the stiff plastic to loosen the bag and pull it off Jane's head. David dropped to his knees and felt for a pulse. There was none. The ashen colour of Jane's face and limp body suggested that they were indeed too late. As Lisbon broke down weeping for her husband, believing they had taken too long to find him, David got to work. He performed CPR, breathing for Patrick, then massaged his heart, trying to make it pump. Cho joined David next to Jane's body and took over massaging his heart so the Doctor could focus on breathing for Jane. They worked silently as a team, each knowing exactly what to do to bring their patient back, if possible.

"Call the chopper over here, now!" Cho yelled at Lisbon, shaking her out of her shock and grief. She mechanically followed orders while never taking her eyes of Jane's grey body. Teresa held onto Jane's cold hand while the Doctor continued to work on him. When the Doctor stopped to check for a pulse again, she knew it wasn't there...there was no joyous response, nothing but a grim continuation of their attempts to revive Patrick. How long had Jane been without oxygen?

Overhead, the thud thud thud of the helicopter rotors signalled its imminent descent onto the ground close by. David blew air into Jane's mouth, then paused again, feeling for a pulse. If it was there, he had to search for it. Jane was limp, cold and seemingly lifeless, but … there...there…

"I've got a pulse!" David shouted. "It's very weak and thready. We need to Med-Evac him outta here immediately!" he commanded, feeling like a doctor again and desperate to have his hands on some IV solution and oxygen.

"It's coming" Cho said calmly, afraid for Jane's life as well. The sound of the chopper overhead shook the small building as Cho and David gently lifted Jane up and carried him outside. The chopper landed in an open swath of dry ground nearby and they ran towards it, Jane carefully cradled between them. They were met by a doctor and his nurses rushing towards them with a stretcher. David identified himself as a doctor and spoke to the doctor from the chopper to fill him in on Jane's condition.

"Stab wound to to the lower abdomen, possible hyperthermia, shock, infection, head wound. We found him not breathing with a plastic bag over his head. Got his heart going again but his pulse isn't strong" David explained over the sound of the helicopter blades. He let the medical team take Jane to the chopper then stepped back with Cho. Teresa showed her badge and told, rather than asked the doctor, that she planned on making the trip with Jane to Austin. There was no way she was going to let him out of her sight. Since time was precious, the doctor didn't argue but waved her inside the chopper which then took off for Austin. David watched the helicopter take off and dart forward through the sky carrying Jane to a hospital specializing in trauma cases. It was over. Finally over. Mark had been caught, Mr. Jane had been rescued. It had all ended so quickly he could hardly believe it.

Without a word, Cho started to run for the FBI SUV, with David in pursuit. While he drove, Cho radioed his other team members to tell them their suspect had been taken into custody. The local police would hold Stockman for now, until Cho arranged for him to be transferred to Austin to a waiting cell under the FBI building. As the black SUV tore out of the gate, the remaining police and agents stayed behind to lock the place down and scour the location for forensic evidence. The investigation was in good hands so Cho felt he could leave and follow Teresa to the hospital in Austin.

David lay back in the rear seat, exhaustion and exhilaration overwhelming him. Cho eyed him in the mirror and turned to check up on him.

"Will you finally let a doctor examine you when we get to Austin?" he asked David, sure he hadn't really let the EMTs at the ambulance take care of him.

"Yes, once I know Mr. Jane is safe" he agreed.

"Good. And by the way, thank you for not listening to my order to stay back in the ambulance. You saved Jane back there" Cho admitted.

"I'm a Doctor, it's what I do" David smiled, happy to be himself again, finally.

"You're bleeding all over a Federal vehicle" Cho smiled, deadpan.

Dr. Litchfield grabbed a roll of paper towels and wiped his ankles, trying to stop the lacerations from oozing onto the floor mats.

"Sorry."

In the air over Blanchard County, the Doctor onboard the chopper worked quickly with his team to stabilize Jane, fluids going in through an IV line to re-hydrate him, an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth to push oxygen rich air into his lungs, while the nurse cleaned his knife wound to allow closer inspection. A warming blanket draped the slim body of the unconscious man. His oxygen levels began to rise but he was still very sick. Teresa stayed out of the way but never let Jane's face out of her sight. Her lips moved silently as she sent prayers up to Heaven for his safe arrival in Austin. The team worked quickly, like a well-oiled machine to keep their patient alive for the short trip to the hospital. Jane was blissfully unaware of the controlled chaos in the chopper. The last thing he was aware of was the face of his attacker laughing while he told Jane how he was going to drown Anika. That horrifying information ended with a punch to the face. All feeling, all sensation ended too, as his body began to shrug off its' struggle to live as his oxygen starved brain shut down, when the last of the air in the thick plastic bag was finally depleted.

Checking his patient's fingertips and lips for colour, the Doctor was satisfied to see them pinking up nicely as Jane's lungs accepted the infusion of oxygen rich air, sending it to every cell in his brain and body. For now, he was out of the woods. What he needed next was a blood transfusion and antibiotics to slow the spread of infection before it overwhelmed his system. Then, surgery. Ahead in Austin, a team was waiting for the helicopter to land on the rooftop heli-pad, where they would then swing into action to save the FBI Consultant. Far below, Cho was driving towards Austin with David in the back seat.

"We got to him in time" Cho said softly, outloud to assure himself. "He's still alive, still fighting" he continued, hoping it was true.

Dr. Litchfield leaned forward, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Agent Jane is a very strong man. What he went through today might have killed a less resilient person, but he never gave up fighting to stay alive, for his wife and his little girl."

Cho nodded numbly, finally turning to acknowledge his support. "Thank you Dr. Litchfield. He is stubborn…" he mumbled before turning to gaze with tired eyes out of the front window again, deep in thought. Twenty minutes later, a ringing cell phone jolted him out of his lethargy.

"Hello?"

"Agent Cho?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"This is Sandy Kramer, at Austin General Hospital. I just want you to know your Agent, Mr. Jane, has landed and is in the Trauma Unit being examined."

"How is he, did anyone say how he is?" Cho asked, thrilled Patrick had arrived already.

"He's holding his own, fighting hard to get well. We'll know more soon."

"Keep me informed until I get there!" Cho instructed the nurse before the call ended.

Cho turned to face David, knowing he needed answers too.

"He's on the ground and in good hands...getting checked out. He made it to Austin…" he said gratefully.

"Like I said, he's a fighter" David said encouragingly. "If the knife missed major organs, he'll be alright with time and treatment. Fingers crossed" he said with as much enthusiasm as he dared.


	24. Good News Bad News

Well it's almost the weekend, so that means another chapter to see you through until next week. As always, reviews are very welcome. And thank you to everyone who took the time to let me know how you are liking the story.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 24

Good News Bad News

The gurney carrying Jane was rushed off the helicopter and down the elevator to the team waiting for him in the Trauma Bay, with Teresa running to keep up next to her unconscious husband. Once there, Teresa was ushered out of the examining room and told to wait until the Doctor came out to speak to her. Beyond the closed door, Jane was quickly assessed for his injuries. A portable x-ray machine was wheeled in to check for further damage to his body, but a CT scan would be needed to see if there was any damage to his brain from the pistol whipping Stockman administered. Time was of the essence, but care needed to be taken before Jane could be anaesthetized. Since he had been shot full of hallucinogens and GHB, his blood work had to be done to make sure the right drugs were administered during surgery with no ill side-effects. His whole body was covered in grey cement dust, so as soon as was judged safe, he was washed and prepped for surgery. Many stitches needed to be sewn into his lacerated scalp, but the bigger issue was his knife wound. As a blood transfusion bolstered his depleted body, the OR team readied for exploratory surgery. Teresa leaped up as the door to the Trauma Bay opened and Jane's gurney was pushed out.

"Jane! Can you hear me?' Teresa asked as she grasped his hand. "How is he? Where's he going?" she peppered the Doctor with questions.

"Mrs. Jane, your husband is stable at the moment, but he needs a CT scan before we can operate on his abdomen. The tox screen for the drugs he was given should be ready soon, then we can proceed. For now, he's holding his own."

"Did he wake up?" Teresa asked, worried about the head injury.

The Doctor shook his head as the whole group surrounding Jane's gurney hurried down the hall.

"No...but he's exhausted and sick with infection. The blow to his head is having an effect, but his generally poor condition would also lead him to shut down and zone out. For now, he just needs to rest, so he continues to be unresponsive."

Teresa tried to process this information and not leap to any far reaching conclusions yet. He was sick, tired, his brain needed to shut down. OK, OK…

The Trauma team reached the CT department and once again left Teresa outside to worry and wait. Jane had to be well enough to go through all these tests before they operated...that was good...wasn't it? Checking her phone for the time, Teresa felt an agonizing amount of time had been spent just evaluating Patrick when what he really needed was surgery! Worried that his condition might deteriorate, Teresa could only grasp her golden cross and pray to God that He would keep watch over her ill husband.

As the minutes spent in prayer ticked by, Teresa was happily surprised to be roused from her meditations when the door swung open and Patrick reappeared, still asleep.

"How is he? The head wound...is it bad?" she asked, tackling one problem at a time.

"All clear. No fractures or bleeds. It's safe to get him into surgery" the Doctor said curtly.

The gurney was moved quickly now, as the team in the OR was waiting for their patient to arrive. The elevator ride up to the surgical suite was mercifully short and when the doors slid open, Jane was pushed through another set of doors and out of sight. A nurse directed Teresa to the waiting room and assured her that someone would come out and keep her apprised of Patrick's condition. Now the long wait began. Teresa listlessly picked up magazine after magazine, seeing the glossy photos but not really reading anything. It was all so trite, so artificial and unimportant. This was what mattered in real life - love and commitment and trust. And faith. Faith that Patrick would survive and come home again to his wife and little girl.

As Teresa got settled for the long wait until Patrick came out of surgery, the elevator doors opened and Dr. David Litchfield stepped out. He and Cho had finally arrived in Austin and he could changed get out of his ridiculous pajama bottoms and hospital gown. Now he was wearing blue jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, sneakers and gym socks. Except for looking exceedingly tired and having a large bruise on his face, he seemed to have survived his encounter with his cousin very well.

"Mrs. Jane?" he asked, wanting to speak to her.

"Yes Dr. Litchfield, come, sit" she indicated, pointing to a chair next to her. "How are you?"

Litchfield grinned and lifted his pant legs, showing bandages around his ankles.

"Not too bad, considering...but I'm more concerned about Patrick. How is he?" he said, not wanting to waste time talking about himself.

"He's in surgery right now. His head wound isn't too bad, but it's the stab wound they're most concerned about. I think you saved his life, more than once. Thank you Dr. Litchfield" she said softly.

"I'm just sorry I couldn't have done more to help him back there at the factory. I was afraid I was going to lose him" he admitted, the events of the previous few days hard to comprehend.

"But you didn't lose him, you saved him. His daughter will get her Daddy back" Teresa said warmly, grasping his hand in gratitude. "After everything you've been through, you should go home and get some rest. You must feel terrible" she suggested.

"I will, but I just wanted to see how Patrick was before I left. I borrowed some clothes from a friend of mine who works downstairs in Pediatrics. He said I can stay with him for a day or two while I get deposed at the Austin FBI office. I am tired though, so I should go, maybe sleep for a while."

"Sounds good. Agent Cho will be in contact with you to take your statement. But for now, you should rest" Teresa said. No use both of them sitting here. The man had just been through hell.

"Agent Cho is on his way up. Should be here soon. Say hello to Patrick from me when he wakes up" David said as he stood up to go. He gave Teresa a hug, feeling they now shared a common bond - their concern for Patrick. "Bye...be well" David said as he walked back to the elevators, feeling like a hundred pounds had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank you. See you soon" Teresa called after him. When Patrick was well and home again, she'd invite the Doctor over for drinks and supper.

Teresa picked up her phone and called the sitter, to check on Anika and let the woman know what was happening to Patrick. It was a wrenching phone call but it was good to hear that Anika was having fun, unaware of everything her Mummy and Daddy were going through.

Cho had found a quiet corner in the main lobby of the hospital to make some calls before he went up to find Teresa. As he was going up to the surgical department, David was on his way back downstairs. When he found the waiting room, Cho joined Teresa as she sat outside the OR waiting to find out how her husband was doing. Cho pulled a chair up beside her and nudged her shoulder.

"Thanks for coming Kimball" she smiled grimly. "He's been in surgery for just a little while now...don't know what's going on…" she added softly.

"He'll be fine Teresa, you have to believe that" Cho said, his face stoney but sure. "After everything he's been through, he will survive this surgery."

Teresa reached out for Kimball's hand and nodded, wanting to believe but unable to let go of her fear of losing Patrick. He had been lifeless when they found him, without breath, without a pulse, dead. She had never seen him so grey, cold like a corpse on an autopsy table. Shivering at that thought, she reached into her purse and took out a photo of Anika. Staring at her daughter gave her strength, a purpose, a way to refocus on more positive thoughts. Jane would survive because he had to, for Anika, for Teresa. He loved his little family too much to slip away now. Time ticked by slowly, with each opening of the OR door giving Teresa false hope that someone was coming out to tell them that Jane was just fine, awake, cracking jokes and generally being a pain in the ass.

Across town, Wylie had made arrangements for Mark Stockman to be transferred from the small jail in Markdale to the waiting cell for him underneath the FBI building in Austin. Stockman was a difficult prisoner, fighting everything. He had tried to escape back at the cement factory, even before he got into the police vehicle taking him to the local jail. Except for the blow to his head slowing him down slightly, he just might have managed to run away from his young keepers. By the time he arrived in Markdale, a phalanx of officers awaited him, ensuring that he would not escape again. While Jane was on his way to Austin, Stockman was now incarcerated in the small jail in the town he once called home. In jail in Markdale, his condition rapidly declined. Soon he was complaining of pain in his back, and general weakness in his legs. That fall from the fence must have caused some serious damage. While he would normally be given a prisoner's uniform to wear straight away, his poor health delayed that procedure.

A doctor was brought to the jail to examine his head wound and his back. He put several stitches into the deep cut the metal disk had carved into Mark's scalp, but the doctor wanted his patient to have a head CT scan to make sure there was no underlying damage to the skull. Stockman's back also needed to be x-rayed as he complained of numbness in his legs. Mark wouldn't be declared fit for transport to Austin until he was examined at the local hospital and cleared for travel. The Captain of the Markdale Police made arrangements for Stockman to be taken to the hospital under guard as soon as possible. He wanted this murderer out of his jail and no longer his responsibility.

As soon as the Doctor could make arrangements for Stockman's arrival, the Captain assigned a seasoned police officer plus two younger officers to escort the prisoner to the local, small hospital in Markdale. If the tests showed anything seriously wrong with Stockman, he would have to receive treatment in a much larger hospital, most likely in Austin. The Doctor left the jail and expected to see Stockman once he arrived by prisoner transfer van at the hospital within the hour. Stockman lay on his bunk in his cell, complaining of pain in his legs due to his fall. His head hurt too but it was not his primary concern. He had bigger issues to deal with.

A half hour later, a guard came in with handcuffs and leg irons for him to wear for the short trip over to the hospital. Then he was shuffled out of the building into the van, with two guards holding rifles across their laps watching his every move in the back of the vehicle. The prisoner was subdued, apparently more seriously injured than the first cursory examination had shown. Perhaps he was suffering from a fractured skull, or a serious back problem, a dislocated disk, or worse, a break in a vertebra. Stockman slumped in his seat in the back of the van, in obvious pain, but ignored the guards. Instead, he was silently cursing his misfortune but cursing his shit for brains cousin and that miserable FBI agent as well. At least the agent was dead. The plastic bag would have done its job very well suffocating Mr. Jane in a short time. It wasn't the death Mark would have planned for Jane but it did the trick just the same.

The short drive to the hospital went without any problems and soon the back door of the van was opened and Stockman was pulled out with a groan of pain by the two cops, preceded by the other officer. Stockman was brought in through a back door by wheelchair so as not to upset the other patients. He was quickly led to a curtained off examining room where he demanded to be put onto a gurney as his back hurt so much. His wrists were handcuffed to the sides of the gurney to make sure he didn't escape and run away from the police who awaited his return to the small jail.

A few minutes later, the Doctor who had visited Stockman in jail appeared in his small cubicle.

"How are you feeling now Mr. Stockman? Any improvement?"

"No. Actually, the pain in my back is getting worse, and I have shooting pains in my legs. I feel like they're getting unstable, like I could fall at any time" Mark explained, lying through his teeth. He knew how to be vague enough but detailed enough in his answers in regards to his symptoms to be taken seriously by another doctor. The Doctor nodded, prodding Stockman's spine, eliciting a hiss of pain at every touch.

"OK...OK…" he said thoughtfully. "Let's get you out of these leg irons for your trip to the Scan."

The Doctor indicated to the police officers that Stockman would have to be freed of his restraints if he was going to be put through the CT scanner. Now the cops had a predicament on their hands. This guy could pull a runner if they weren't careful. If he could run...

"He stays in cuffs and leg irons until we get to the CT scan. Then we can release him, just long enough for the test, then he goes back into his restraints" the lead cop informed the Doctor.

"Fine with me" the Doctor agreed. Two orderlies came into the room to push the gurney to the CT room, with the cops surrounding their prisoner. Once inside the room, the police uncuffed Mark and removed his leg irons.

"Can you stand up Mr. Stockman?" the CT technician asked Mark.

"Not without some help...my legs don't wanna work" he said dramatically.

"Sure, no problem" the young technician said, walking over to get the wheelchair nearby. The police officers watched the proceedings closely but gave the technician room to work. They stood ready to subdue Stockman should the need arise. The young man brought the wheelchair over and locked it in place, then reached over to help Stockman stand. Mark got half way up off the gurney then started to tip over, falling over the edge of the bed and against the young man. A cop stepped forward to assist the young technician with the much larger prisoner. When the police officer got close enough to Stockman, who was limp and flailing around for support, he grabbed Mark to steady him. As soon as the officer and the technician had their arms occupied with the difficult Stockman, Mark reached down and grabbed the gun out of the officer's holster. Pulling his arm up suddenly, he knocked the cop out with the butt of the gun. As the officer hit the floor with a dull thud, Mark suddenly stood erect on steady legs, surprising the other two officers and the medical technician. Turning to face them, the gun held high and cocked, ready to be fired, Mark savoured his victory over these chumps.

"Thank you very much for the trip into town gentlemen, much appreciated. Now I want everyone to move over there" Stockman said, waving the gun at the small group of startled men. The other officers frantically reached for their guns, but they were too late, their lack of attention catching them unprepared.

"Drop the guns. Do it!" Stockman shouted.

Stockman grabbed the young CT technician and held the gun to his head, keeping the young man directly in front of him so the cops couldn't just shoot him in the head or arm.

"Drop the guns, all of you!" he shouted at the cops. "Drop them and move over there, into the closet" he yelled, holding the terrified young man even closer. "I don't care what happens to this guy, so if you want him to go home to Mamma tonight, I suggest you do as I say!" he ordered the cops. "And take him with you!" he yelled, indicating the unconscious older cop, who was now bleeding heavily from his head wound. The young officers looked at each other, not sure what to do. The two had never encountered a situation like this before, and the older one wasn't fit able to wrestle Stockman for his gun. The poor technician would most likely end up with a bullet in him if he tried to tackle Stockman.

"Tick tock! Time to move or I start shooting!" Mark hissed, pressing the gun into the technician's temple.

Both young police officers immediately dropped their guns and kicked them away. The older officer had already lost his gun to Stockman. His career was also most likely over.

"All of you, into the closet. Move!" Stockman ordered them. The officers grabbed hold of the cop on the floor and dragged him over into the supplies closet, then they stepped inside. Stockman followed with the gun to the technician's head, and when he was close enough, pushed the man inside then slammed the door shut, locking it. He immediately ran out of the room and disappeared in the crowded hallway, blending in with groups of families arriving to visit loved ones.

By the time the police in the closet had radioed for help, Stockman was long gone.

(Austin General Hospital)

The sun was setting low in the sky, colouring the evening horizon a blaze of ochre, scarlett and lavender. Lisbon gazed restlessly out of the window close to the waiting room, her need to move getting the best of her. The painted sky was lost on her. She had too much on her mind to see nature's beauty. Cho had kept a steady flow of coffee coming while they waited for the surgery to end, but enough was enough. One more coffee and Teresa would be a shaking mess. As she turned to rejoin Cho for more endless waiting, the door at the end of the hall opened and a surgeon stepped into the small waiting room.

"Family for Patrick Jane?"

Teresa quickly jogged back to call out to the Doctor. "Yes, that's me. I'm his wife."

The Doctor sat down next to Teresa and Cho. "First things first, Mr. Jane is doing well. He got through surgery just fine. The stab wound was infected quite badly so we had to debride it and clean out the cavity in his abdomen. We had to put in a drain, but that can come out in a day or two. The knife very nearly nicked his spleen, but he was lucky, and it missed. We had to do some exploratory surgery to see if any other organs were damaged, but other than blood loss and infection, we were pleased that the knife didn't do more damage. Whoever wrapped his body in that plastic bag and made a compress very likely saved Mr. Jane's life. He also has a deep laceration in his scalp, which we stitched up as well."

"So he's going to be OK?" Teresa said cautiously.

"If he stays still, lets his stitches heal, rests, follows the doctor's orders, he should make a full recovery. But he will be very sore for a couple of weeks. Don't let him over-extend himself at work or at home. At the moment he's weak, but we're going to keep him sedated tonight so that the fluids and antibiotics can do their work. He should sleep for the rest of the evening. By tomorrow, he'll be glad to have a visitor" the surgeon smiled.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Teresa grinned, relief pouring over her in waves. Cho stood up and shook the surgeon's hand, then got on his phone to tell Wylie the good news.

"Can I see him tonight?" Teresa asked the surgeon before he walked away. "Just for a minute?"

The man turned and smiled, knowing this was more for the benefit of Teresa than for her husband.

"As soon as we get Mr. Jane settled in his room, we'll let you know and you can see him. Talk to him, let him know you're there, even if he doesn't respond. Sometimes they do hear and it does the patient good to know they aren't alone."

"OK. Thank you" Teresa said again. Cho had wandered off to speak to Wylie and when he came back to Teresa, her enthusiasm about seeing Jane soon quickly turned to concern. Judging from the dark expression on Cho's face, he had just received some bad news.

"Gotta go...you stay with Patrick" he said, his manner cold and professional again.

"What's going on Cho?"

"It's Stockman. He was taken to the hospital in Markdale to get checked out... pretended to have back problems. Grabbed a gun from one of the officers guarding him and escaped. With the gun."

Teresa shook her head in disbelief. "When did this happen?"

"Over two hours ago. So far, no one has seen him. Look, I have to go. Say hi to Patrick from me."

Cho turned to leave but Teresa grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Get him Kimball and take him to Austin. Throw him into a dark hole and leave him there!"

Cho nodded and then walked away, leaving Teresa to sink down into her chair, alone and shaken to her core. This nightmare just would not end.


	25. Will Hope

Ohh just when it looked like Jane and David were safe, that miserable Mark Stockman managed to outsmart the local cops. Now what?

Dead Ringer

Chapter 25

Will Hope

Cho ran out of the hospital in a rage. Just how incompetent were the police in Blanchard and Markdale? Letting a murderer run free through a hospital and then out into the town, with a police issued weapon? How was that possible? He placed a call to Wylie to arrange a helicopter to take him back to Blanchard County to apprehend Stockman once and for all. As he ran, a new thought occurred to him.

He had to warn David Litchfield. And post a guard to Patrick's hospital room.

With any luck, Stockman would be focussed on running away from the comforts of his home County, perhaps towards the bus station or one of several small airports close by. Wherever he went, the FBI had to be one step ahead of him. Stockman could still be gunning for his cousin though, blaming him for his downfall. Good thing David and Jane were in Austin, away from Stockman's reach. Cho planned to keep it that way. As long as Stockman believed Jane was dead, he shouldn't be coming for him.

As Cho reached his car, he dialed Wylie to tell him to get ahold of David and warn him to stay in Austin until Mark Stockman had been re-arrested. There was no way Cho wanted to be faced with Stockman taking his cousin hostage yet again.

Upstairs at the Austin General Hospital, Teresa didn't have time to process the information about Stockman's escape. As soon as Cho had left her, a nurse came out to inform her that Patrick was being moved downstairs to the 4th floor Surgical Unit. There he would be watched carefully overnight. Teresa could go and wait for him to arrive. This was the news she had been waiting for and Teresa quickly took the elevator down one floor to wait and watch for his arrival. It took another 20 minutes, but finally the elevator doors slid open and Jane was pushed out on a bed, surrounded by two nurses and an orderly. Teresa fell in behind them and followed until Patrick was taken to his private room. Teresa waited just outside the door while the nurses got Patrick settled and adjusted his IV and pain pump. He slept throughout the whole procedure.

"He's all set. You can stay for about 10 minutes, then he needs to left alone to sleep" a nurse told her on her way out of his room.

Teresa nodded her thanks and stepped into the spartan room, going to Patrick's side immediately. He was pale, paler than she'd ever seen him, even with his perennial suntan. A large dressing swathed his head, covering the stitches running across the back of his scalp. A large compress covered the knife hole in the front of his body and around to the back, where the knife had first entered. Drains ran out from under the large white dressing, leading Teresa to understand more fully how badly infected his wound had been in that filthy cement factory. She was leaning far over Jane's body to inspect his injuries when the door opened and a very large Federal Agent stepped into the room, startled to see a civilian next to the man he was supposed to guard.

"Arms up!" he demanded, pointing his gun at Teresa.

"Relax! I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane, this man's wife. I work with Senior Agent Kimball Cho out of the Austin FBI office" she answered, unperturbed by his aggressive manner. He was there to protect her husband, so it was all good.

"Prove it!" he snarled, not ready to believe her just yet. "Two fingers…" he ordered her, when she tried to take out her ID badge.

She nodded and slipped her thumb and index finger into her pocket and produced her ID, holding it out for the Agent to scrutinize. Seeing she was in fact an agent and the wife of the patient, he immediately dropped his weapon and holstered it.

"Sorry Agent Jane...just making sure…" he smiled, standing down.

"Hey, no problem. Glad to see you're here to protect Patrick. Nice to meet you Agent…?"

"Hope. Agent Will Hope."

Teresa smiled at his fortuitous name. Will hope...yes, she will hope...for Jane to be home soon.

"Nice to meet you Will."

He smiled and turned to go. "I'll let you visit in private. Call if you need me" he said kindly, then slipped out, back into the hallway where he took up his position.

Alone again, Teresa hovered over Patrick's calm face. While ashen in colour, he seemed to be peacefully asleep. As long as he stayed that way, the healing could begin. Taking his large warm hand in hers, Teresa kissed each finger then leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips. His hair showed traces of cement dust, but his body had been cleansed prior to his surgery. Loose curls splayed across the low pillow, parted by the layers of cotton gauze encircling his head.

"Patrick, I'm here. You're going to be just fine. You made it out of that cement factory and soon you can come home with me and Anika. She misses her Daddy" she said softly, close to his face.

"David is fine. He got away and found us, brought us to you, Cho, me, the local police, agents from Austin...it was pretty hectic" she added, knowing full well he couldn't hear her.

"All you have to do is rest, sleep as long as you want, then with a bit of luck, you can come home in a day or two. I miss having you next to me in our big bed. Miss your warm body curled up close to mine."

Teresa put her hand on his bare chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, the thump thump of his heart, both indications of him being gloriously alive. Alive...after being...dead. Shaking her head in gratitude, she studied every line across his cheeks, every crinkle at the edges of his eyes, every bit of whiskery stubble on his jaws and chin. All of it was so beautiful, so manly, so completely Patrick.

God how she loved him, so much, it almost made her heart ache. She stood speaking softly next to him and was surprised when a nurse came in to check his vitals.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Jane, but it's been more than 10 minutes. Why don't you take a break, or go home to rest a bit? Your husband won't wake up tonight so you can safely leave him for a while" she suggested kindly.

"Can I come back in an hour?" Teresa asked, not sure she could physically be separated from him again.

"No Ma'am. Mr. Jane needs to rest, and I would guess you do too. You're welcome to come back first thing in the morning though" the nurse informed her. She had seen too many spouses fall apart from exhaustion before their partner went home.

Teresa nodded, knowing she couldn't fight the rules, and truth be told, she hadn't slept much since Jane disappeared. The thought of her bed and a quick cuddle with Anika seemed wonderful to her at the moment.

Turning back to Patrick, she bent over and whispered in his ear.

"I'm going to go home and check on Anika. Then you can sleep while I get some rest. Be good, and I'll see you in the morning. I love you Patrick" she added, kissing his cheek one last time before she walked away to let the nurse do her work. Pausing at the door, she turned and looked at her husband, a faint rush of concern running up her spine.

Agent Hope had better keep Patrick safe.

(Blanchard County)

Mark Stockman was free from police custody, but he was hardly a free man. There was nowhere he could run that felt safe. He had no car, no money, no access to either at the moment, and his face was plastered across every newspaper, TV, computer, cell phone and telephone pole on posters. Unless he could go underground and get far away from here, he knew it was just a matter of time before some cop bumped into him and a fight broke out. Stockman wasn't going to go down easily. He made his way across town, staying in the shadows in the worst part of downtown core, surrounded by people who had their own reasons to avoid the police, but he hated it there. It was a dirty, urine soaked, alley infested broken down neighbourhood. He was used to the high life, being respected and obeyed as a doctor, a fake doctor albeit, but still...he felt superior to all of these rummy, drug addled scum who inhabited this sorry part of town. But he was safe here, for now.

His first concern was to get some money, just enough to enact his getaway plan. He stayed in the background, lingering in an stinking alley until a kid high on ecstasy stumbled into him. It was pathetically easy to roll him for his money and knock him out in the far end of the dank space. Now he had some spending money until more came his way.

He deeked into a small convenience store that mostly sold cheap wine, cigarettes and lighters to cook down drugs. He found some cheap no-name disposable razors and shaving foam. He also found some glasses with non-prescription lenses. Taking a pair of heavy black framed glasses, he paired them with a loose baseball t-shirt and a baseball hat. As soon as he had paid for everything with his stolen money, he found a bathroom in a bar down the street and went to work. Ten minutes later, he emerged bald, dressed in his baggy t-shirt with his face largely disguised by the oversized glasses. The baseball hat covered his bandaged stitches. He was so uninteresting to look at he boldly walked through the bar without raising the slightest bit of scrutiny. He looked just like every other man in there.

Part one of his plan to disappear was accomplished, now to get to the next phase of his disappearing act. He went back outside and languished against a street corner, half hidden by a large green post office mail box. Traffic drifted through here, but it was mostly Johns cruising for hookers. After waiting for 40 minutes without success, Stockman finally saw his 'mark' drive up. An elderly man parked at the side of the road and stumbled out of his older model compact car. It was beige and so nondescript you wouldn't see it if you were actually looking for it. The old guy wobbled across the street towards his favourite bar and slipped inside, needing more lubrication to face his day.

Stockman strolled into the bar and and sat next to the man. The old guy was as smelly as he was drunk, but Stockman had to get close to him to make his plan work. He chatted the man up for a while, seeming to enjoy his company. As he reached for some free peanuts sitting on the counter, Stockman bumped into the man and spilled his drink all over his lap. Cursing Stockman loudly, the man jumped up and began to brush the liquid off his filthy pants, loudly protesting Stockman's clumsiness.

"Sorry man... didn't mean no harm...here, let me help" Stockman said, taking a large paper towel from the bar to wipe down the angry man. He vigorously wiped the grease stained pants, pocketing the drunk's car keys as he kept the man talking.

"Let me buy you another drink" he said, knowing those were the magic words to calm the old geezer down.

"You'd better bud…" the man hissed, settling back down on his stool. Mark waved at the bartender and ordered another drink for the man, then got up and slipped away before he was pressed to pay for it. By the time the bartender and the old man had figured out they'd been played, Stockman was driving away in the ugly beige car. Mission accomplished. He headed out of this scummy part of town and out into the countryside, hoping to avoid running into any patrol cars searching for him.

Stockman had to decide where to go next. The FBI man was dead, most likely laid out on a cold morgue slab by now, but his cousin David was obviously still alive. Where would David go? It seemed too obvious that he should go back to the Litchfield Psychiatric Home. That's the first place Mark would look for David...so, where else would that fucker go? Stockman turned on the car radio to get the latest news. Perhaps there would be a mention of the events out at the cement factory. Nothing that exciting had happened in Blanchard County since...ever.

After two or three whiney country songs ended, the news began. Sitting up to pay attention, Stockman listened for his name. After an agonizing wait for the commercials to end, the saga of the take down at the cement factory was announced. Stockman was named as the hostage taker, a violent psychopath up on charges of murder, kidnapping, assault. Dr. David Litchfield had been held against his will for almost a year in his own facility, but now he was free and talking to the police. Locals were being warned to be on the lookout for Stockman.

Shit!

The story also mentioned the drowning of Lynn Michaels and the kidnapping and murder of an FBI Consultant.

Murder. Murders...

Kimball Cho had planted that story to make sure Patrick stayed safe, but Stockman didn't need to know that, not yet at least. Once he was back behind bars and on his way to court to face his crimes, he would find out his dead witness wasn't quite so dead after all. But as far as he knew today, Jane was well and truly dead. Stockman believed he got that one thing right out there at the factory. Patrick Jane couldn't testify against him from six feet under the ground!

Mark drove on, weighing his options for a place to escape. The border to Mexico was tantalizingly close, but he realized it would be heavily fortified against his slipping through, even in disguise. No, he had to go somewhere unexpected. He had to think like David. A new idea popped into his head. Yes, David...he was the key to so many decisions Mark had had to make in the last 10 years. He could still be of use to him. He drove a little faster now, heading to a gas station in a tiny town 40 miles to the north. Stockman knew there was a pay phone there, one of the last ones left in this digital age. All he needed was some more cash and he'd be on his way.

(Austin Texas)

David would be staying in an FBI safe house in Austin until Mark Stockman was apprehended and incarcerated in a prison cell before he had his day in court. It pained him that he had missed out on taking care of his patients for the best part of a year, and even though he intended to hand the whole facility over to someone else, he still wanted to go back to the Home and see how well the place was operating. At least he could call, he supposed. See if another doctor could step in a few days a week to help the beleaguered staff. Yes, that's what he'd do. He placed a call and got through to Mrs. Rogers, the receptionist he'd never met. Mark had very efficiently replaced everyone who knew the real Dr. David Litchfield.

"Litchfield Psychiatric Home, how may I help you?" she said.

"Hello, you don't know me, but I'm Dr. David Litchfield. The real Dr. Litchfield" he said, hoping she'd believe him.

Mrs. Rogers wasn't sure what was going on but the last week had been crazy around there, with patients and doctors missing...now this guy calls up and says he's Doctor Litchfield.

"Go on" she said cautiously.

"My cousin impersonated me, and I would guess that he hired you. I'm just calling to speak to the head nurse, whoever that may be now. I need to find out how my patients are" he explained. Even to him it sounded lame.

"Sir, or, Doctor, the condition and medical history of any of our patients is strictly confidential. We can't just give that information out over the phone to someone who claims to be a doctor" she scolded him.

Dr. Litchfield had to smile at that. She was playing by the rules. So far, he liked her.

"Yes, I understand patient confidentiality rules, but if you would just put me through to whoever is running the place in my absence, I would appreciate it" he cajoled her.

"Sir, why don't you just come in and identify yourself to us so we can be sure you're who you say you are?" Mrs. Rogers prodded him, still skeptical.

"Ma'am, I can't. I'm in hiding from my cousin, the man you worked for. If he finds out where I am I won't be safe. Now please, just put me through and the nurse can make the decision whether or not to speak to me" he demanded.

Mrs. Rogers decided that she could do that, without consequences. After all, the nurse was the one responsible for patient care, not her. Mind made up, she agreed.

"Alright, the person you need to speak to is Carolyn Martin. She's the head nurse here. I'll put you through."

"Thank you." David waited, not quite sure what he hoped to accomplish with this call, but he had to do something. After all, his name was on the Home.

"Carolyn Martin speaking."

"Oh hello Carolyn, I am Dr. David Litchfield. The real Dr. Litchfield."

"Sir, why should I believe you? To me, you're just a voice on the phone."

David wasn't having much luck with the staff of his hospital. But he had to give them credit for being professional.

"Well you shouldn't I suppose. But by now you know that the man who hired you was really named Mark Stockman, correct? And he disappeared, taking two patients with him. One of those men was me. The other man was an FBI consultant. How am I doing so far?" David asked, knowing none of this was information that had been broadcast to the public.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. The woman was considering his story.

"Go on. Tell me about the Home. Tell me something only Dr. Litchfield would know."

David smiled at that. What did he know that this nurse would accept as the truth?

"Okay, give me a moment. If you go up to the attic, through my apartment, there is a small drawing on the wall behind a pile of old chairs and bed frames. I drew that on the wall when I was 7 years old. The crayon drawing is of a yellow school bus and a little boy standing beside it wearing a red sweater and blue pants. I wrote my name beside the picture, but misspelled the name. I spelled David with an 'e' instead of an 'i'."

David could hear the nurse walking, then running up the stairs at the front of the building.

"We were told not to go into the apartment sir. It is part of the investigation."

"Did the police place yellow crime scene tape across the door?" David asked.

"No sir, just across the bedroom door. I can go in through the kitchen and get into the attic there."

"Please do that."

"OK, here goes...this better not be a joke!" she said sternly. David could hear her walking quickly through the kitchen, a kitchen he had not been in for a very long time. He missed it. The sound of her puffing up the steep narrow steps to the attic also brought back memories.

"Where is the light switch?" the woman muttered to herself as she reached the top of the stairs.

"To your left, low down on the wall. People were shorter back then" David said, grinning.

The nurse felt around, and there it was! On the left, lower than she would have expected it to be on the wall! She stepped into the spacious attic and looked around for the pile of furniture. Most of it had been disposed of but a couple of old heavy chairs remained. She walked over and moved a chair away to reveal the wall. There she found the little drawing, very low on the wall, about the height a small boy would choose to draw himself and his school bus. And David was spelled with an 'e'.

"I found it! It's exactly the way you described it! Are you really the real Dr. Litchfield?" she said, suddenly embarrassed to have doubted her boss.

"Yes, I am, but my cousin took me hostage and imprisoned me back in the Secure Unit. No one knew I was back there. How are my patients? Are they doing well? How is the Conductor?" he asked, remembering the old man fondly.

The nurse gave him a fairly general assessment of the state of affairs at the Home, still not willing to divulge anything too specific about the patients, but David was assured that at least the patients had not suffered. And although she hadn't personally cared for the Conductor, he was doing well. David could rest easy now, knowing that no matter what had transpired, the medical staff had done a good job treating the patients.

"Carolyn, as soon as I can come back and visit, I very much look forward to meeting you. Right now, the FBI wants me to stay out of sight, but soon I will come back. Thank you for taking my call. Would it be alright if I check in with you every few days?" he added.

"Dr. this is your hospital. You can call as often as you like. It was nice to finally meet you, so to speak" she smiled into the phone.

"Thank you Carolyn. Keep up the good work. Tell the staff I look forward to meeting all of them soon. Bye for now" he said before he hung up, feeling much better about the situation back in Markdale. Now if only Stockman could be recaptured he could finally relax completely.


	26. Low Tech Info

I can't believe another weekend is already upon us soon. So here's a new chapter to keep you busy until next week.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 26

Low Tech Info

Teresa left the hospital and hailed a cab to take her back to the cabin by the pond. It seemed like forever ago that she was here with Anika and Jane, eating breakfast and teasing each other. What did someone call such times? The magic of ordinary days? She yearned for those ordinary days to return and stay for good. Teresa felt so much older and so tired after everything that had happened this week. She entered the house and smiled wistfully at the first thing she saw, the old knitted throw that Jane used to keep on the back of his sofa at the CBI. It had rows of boomerangs all over it, dark/light, dark/light. He told her he got it from a Aussie he met on the Carny circuit. He had kept it out of a dream of going surfing one day. Now it went wherever he went. As she ran her fingers over it, inhaling his scent, little feet thundered through the kitchen and Anika appeared in the living room, closely followed by the tired babysitter Benita, whom Kiki insisted on calling Benny.

"Mummy!" she yelled, happy to see her mother after so long. She gave Teresa a big wet kiss then asked the question most on her mind all these days. "Where Daddy?"

Teresa held out her arms and scooped the little girl up, smothering her in kisses. "Hello pumpkin. Daddy isn't feeling very well so he went to the hospital to get better. Do you want to go and visit him tomorrow?"

"Daddy got a boo boo?" Anika asked, always assuming sick meant you needed a bandaid.

"Yes, Daddy has a big boo boo. One on his tummy and one on his head. We have to be very gentle with him when we kiss him, OK sweetie?"

"OK. I kiss him better!" KiKi told her mother. Teresa had to laugh at Anika's simple solution to life's problems.

"He'd like that. Maybe we can make him a get well card and take it with us tomorrow" Teresa suggested, happy to keep Anika busy and doing something to help her Daddy. KiKi ran off to find her art supplies and left the sitter to speak to Teresa.

"How is Mr. Jane?" Benita asked, reaching for her jacket.

"I can't say too much with you-know-who listening" Teresa said quietly, knowing KiKi might overhear their conversation, "but we found Patrick and he needed surgery for a knife wound to the abdomen."

"Oh Lordy no!" the older woman said, shocked at what had happened to that nice man.

"He's recovering and will be home in a day or two. Got a big bump on the head, but we are mostly concerned about his stab wound. Don't say anything to Anika, OK?"

"My lips are sealed. Say hello from me. Let me know if I can do anything to help when he gets home Teresa" the woman said as she waved goodbye to KiKi.

"Bye sweetie. Be good for your Mummy!" she called before she stepped outside and got into her car.

"Bye bye Benny!"

Teresa could finally take a big breath and relax. She was home. Patrick would live, and Anika would soon be in his arms. 'Thank you God' she prayed silently, before KiKi ran back to her with crayons.

"Make card now?"

"Absolutely. I'll order a pizza and we can make a card for Daddy while we wait. Then, it's bedtime missy!"

Teresa soon had the supper order phoned in, then she and Anika sat side by side at the kitchen table, making cards that Jane would treasure forever.

(Blanchard County - Texas)

Far away in Blanchard County, cruising down a dusty country road in the dark, Mark Stockman pulled up to the gas station to see if the old pay phone was still there. He needed to find out just where his cousin was hiding, and a single call might tell him exactly what he wanted to was still wearing his civilian clothes instead of a jail uniform. His play acting about being unable to walk had paid off so well, he had hardly spent long enough in the Markdale jail to get changed into a prisoner's jumpsuit. He went inside the small office at the gas station and looked around for someone to come out from the garage. The older man who ran the place was under a car, his feet sticking out as he worked on the oil pan. Smiling at his good fortune, Stockman stepped around the counter and opened the cash register, taking out all of the paper money and coins. As soon as he had it all, he ran back outside and dropped coins in the phone, calling a familiar number.

"Litchfield Psychiatric Home, how may I help you?" Mrs. Rogers said, annoyed that someone had prevented her from leaving. She already had her coat on and her purse over her arm. These days, the staff were staying later to keep the place going until someone took over the management of the Home again.

"Oh hello, I was wondering if I could speak to Dr. Litchfield? I have an uncle who needs treatment and I've heard such good things about the Home" Stockman said with a heavy Texas twang.

"I'm sorry, but we're about to close and Dr. Litchfield can't come to the phone. You'll have to call back" Mrs. Rogers said, eyeing the time.

"I won't be but a minute Ma'am. Is the Doctor there?" he asked again.

"Dr. Litchfield isn't in. He's away, for a while. Can't say when he'll be back. Like I said, you'll have to call back."

"I really need to talk to him. Can you tell me how to reach him, maybe a cell phone number?" Mark begged.

"Well, no, actually, I couldn't do that. Where he is...he can't be reached…" Mrs. Rogers said evasively. "Please, call tomorrow and you can speak to the Head Nurse. Goodnight Sir" she said with finality and hung up. Two minutes later, she was out the door.

Mark hung up and mulled over what she had said. The Doctor was out, mysteriously away, unavailable. Can't be reached...Can't say when he'd return. If he had gone back to his own facility, she would have said so. But no.

The fucker was in protective custody! It didn't matter where he was now, he was untouchable!

Stockman ran back to the ugly beige car in a foul mood and pulled away before the old guy in the garage noticed he'd been robbed. Where to now? He drove conservatively, just in case anyone passed him by. He didn't want to do anything to arouse suspicion. Patrick Jane was dead, David was safely hidden somewhere he couldn't find him...what did that leave him to accomplish as far as personal vengeance was concerned? He needed to hurt someone, ruin someone, destroy a life the way David had destroyed his… An idea began to take shape in his frustrated mind.

He reached down into his sock and pulled out a photo. It was the photo of that FBI Agent Teresa Jane and her little girl, KiKi. What kind of name was KiKi? Must be a nickname. Huh….he took his eyes off the road to stare at the little girl. There was no way to tell where the photo was taken. A park somewhere...but other than that, he had no clue where they lived in Austin, how they lived. Then he saw it. The clue he needed to fulfil a promise he had made to that asshole Patrick Jane just before he suffocated him to death.

The last thing he promised Jane before he killed him was that he would take his little girl away from the safety of her home, abuse her, use her, then drown her, just like he did with Lynn Michaels.

He ran his finger over the wrinkled photo and smiled. There was everything he needed to know, right there. Anika was in her mother's arms, wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with 'Unicorn Preschool" emblazoned on the front of it. They lived in Austin, and that kid went to the Unicorn Preschool.

Perfect.

Stockman picked up his pace and set his goal on reaching Austin as soon as possible. He had a date with a young girl named KiKi!

(Austin General Hospital - 2 A.M.)

Jane had been sleeping peacefully since he got out of surgery, thanks to the sedation the doctor had prescribed, but the medication was no longer deep enough to keep him completely insensate. As it began to wear off, Jane's brain woke up, long before his body did, and what his mind conjured up was ugly, dark, nightmarish in its labyrinthine twisting of time and memories. The past was the present, images of Charlotte playing with Anika filling his mind. What should have been a sweet image of sisterly love instead felt like a foreboding, a warning that all was not what it seemed to be. As he saw the two girls playing, his heart rate began to pick up, a darkness descending on this happy scene. Angela was there, as was Teresa, two happy mothers standing side by side, seemingly unaware of the impossibility of them being in the same place at the same time. Jane called out to them, to look up, 'I'm over here...take the girls and run...he's coming...coming for the girls...he'll kill them...look up!'

For years, he had been one step behind Red John, fighting to capture him before he killed either Teresa or Jane himself, and now, now his girls were in danger from a predator who knew no boundaries. But who was the predator? The danger was ill-defined, a wisp of evil drifting on the fall breeze, floating ever closer to his beautiful family. As much as his brain fought to put a face to the encroaching danger, Jane's thoughts were too disjointed to connect the dots and just remember. But the emotion that fear evoked was real.

'Look up dammit! Run!'

The cardiac monitor showed a spike as Jane's breathing picked up, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He tossed around the bed in agitation.

'Go! For God's sake he's coming for her!'

Even though his eyes were screwed shut Jane's face grimaced in fear and anguish, the anguish that no one was aware of his attempts to tell them that his beautiful daughters were in imminent danger from a man who had no scruples, no problem with taking a child to her death. He felt he knew who it was, but did Angela and Teresa?

He could see his enemy, knew that face so well. As the name came to him, his heart pounded out a staccato rhythm, the lines on his heart monitor climbing ever higher with each beat.

Mark Stockman was coming for Anika!

Jane banged against the railings of his bed and flailed anxiously, still asleep but desperate to get up and run to his house, to save KiKi and her mother. He could feel Stockman's presence, feel him observing Anika. There was nothing Jane could do but watch as his lovely girls played, oblivious to the deadly threat hiding just around the corner. Why didn't anyone hear him calling? As his heart pounded in his chest, he cried out in desperation, finally finding his voice.

"Run Anika! Run! He's coming! Hide!" he screamed before cool hands reached for his hot face and jerking arms and held him down.

His cardiac monitor had set off an alarm at the nurses station and sent three nurses running into his room to find him trying painfully to climb out of the bed, almost falling to the hard floor in panic. He still wasn't really awake, but in that nightmarish twilight zone of sleepwalking. He finally had his eyes open but he only saw his reality, his house, his babies, his beautiful Teresa and Angela, not the hospital room or the nurses hovering over him. As the nurses called for a doctor they restrained Jane, holding him down to prevent him from falling out of the bed completely and hurting himself even more than he already had. His bandage was covered with fresh blood. Surely some stitches had been ripped out of his incision. He fought off the nurses as well as he could but he had no idea he was doing it. He just couldn't seem to get moving, get up and over to his girls...something was holding him down.

"Mr. Jane! Wake up! Mr. Jane! You're having a nightmare!" one of the nurses shouted at him.

The pull of the sedation was still too strong, he couldn't wake up from this vision. A cool cloth was placed on his forehead while another nurse reached for restraints to tie Jane's wrists and body to the bed, to protect him from further injury. Finally a doctor arrived and after a cursory examination, injected a tranquilizer into the IV line to calm the poor man down. As the drug coursed through his veins, the memory of Stockman's threat to Anika faded, as the memory of Jane's family faded, their cries for help getting fainter and fainter, until, mercifully, his mind shut down and all thought dimmed to nothingness.

As his face slackened and he stopped fighting them, the nursing staff stood back and gave Jane room. The nurses filled the doctor in on what had happened, and he took notes on his ipad. While the patient slept, the doctor took the dressing off the stab wound and cleaned the incision, repairing the stitches that had opened up. In the morning, Mr. Jane would be none the wiser about his terrible nightmare.

(Austin Texas)

Stockman was lying low in a scummy, run down motel on the edge of the city. He had arrived hours ago, after taking a very circuitous route to reach his destination. He bought some beer and was reading the phone book helpfully deposited in the drawer of the broken desk in his room. What he needed was a laptop, but that had been abandoned when he had to ditch his car in Blanchard County. The phone book was so low tech...but it would do. Under the heading "Preschools" he ran his finger down the page seeking the Unicorn Preschool. The list of schools was long, but after dismissing all of the Montessori 'Unicorn' schools, he finally found the one he needed. There was but one Unicorn Preschool close to the downtown Austin core. Its advertisement showed a smiling child in a bright yellow t-shirt with the Unicorn logo on the front. That had to be it. Now all he needed to do was go there and put a plan in motion. Sooner or later, that little rugrat had to show up for class.

Stockman tore the page out of the phonebook and put it into his pants pocket, then he lay down on the bed and let himself relax in satisfaction. Tomorrow...he'd finally have his vengeance tomorrow. So what if that asshole Patrick Jane wasn't alive to suffer the loss of his precious daughter, again. Agent Teresa Jane could do the suffering instead.

(Jane Household - 7 A.M.)

Teresa had slept so well she almost overslept. All of her cares and fears had slipped away the previous night as soon as she laid her head on her pillow, her final thoughts being prayers of thanksgiving for Patrick's safe return to Austin. As soon as she got Anika off to preschool she'd go and visit Patrick first thing. Anika could come in the early afternoon once Teresa knew Patrick was well enough to handle a visit from his rambunctious daughter. She'd ask Benita to pick Anika up from school and bring her to the hospital where Teresa would meet them. Anika wolfed her breakfast down in happy anticipation of going to see her Daddy later, just like Mummy promised. But first, she had to spend the morning in school, to get extra smart. That's what she had told Teresa over breakfast. She would be extra smart for her Daddy today.

"I think that's a very good plan sweet pea" Teresa smiled as she put her empty coffee cup in the sink. "I'll see you after your lunch when Benny brings you to the hospital, then we can both go and see Daddy together. Come on, wash your hands and face, brush your teeth, and then it's time to go" she reminded KiKi, who was always in a hurry to rush out to start her day with breakfast all over her chin.

Ten minutes later, washed and presentable, Teresa buckled Anika into her car seat and drove over to the school just 20 minutes away. Many hugs and kisses later, Teresa waved bye bye to her little girl and got back into her car to go and see Jane before he woke up and wondered where she was.

(Austin General Hospital - 7:50 A.M.)

The sound of meal carts rattling down the hallway roused Jane from his deep sleep. The tranquilizer had finally worn off, as well as the initial sedation, so his mind was suddenly very alert and listening to the hospital slowly wake up. Jane lay strapped down to his bed, his body stiff and uncomfortable from being in one position for hours and hours. The noise in the hallway increased as the staff began their morning tasks, and at the sound of a loud crash down the hall, Jane's eyes flew open and he jolted awake.

Gazing around the room in confusion, Patrick realized with chagrin he was in a hospital. The last thing he could remember was staring up into the crazed face of Mark Stockman as he laughed at Jane's imminent death. Then, a heavy plastic bag was pulled over his head and everything faded to black. He had no recollection of being found, transported to the hospital or being treated for his injuries. Jane tried to reach down and pat his stab wound to see if it had been stitched up, but his wrists were tied to the side bars of his bed. A flush of panic raced through Jane as this scenario was eerily similar to his time spent in the psychiatric home after his wife and daughter were killed. There too he had had to be tied down as he raged at their deaths. As his heart rate sped up, he suddenly feared the worst. Was he back in a mental institution? But for good this time? He wrestled with his restraints, only making his distress worse until he resorted to crying out for help. He screamed for someone to come and release him and let him go home. The monitor showed his heart banging away in his chest as his worst nightmare was being played out, yet again.

The door slammed open and a young nurse raced in.

"Help! Help me! Get me out of here! I don't belong here! I want to go home!" Patrick cried, not thinking at all now, just reacting from panic and a heavy shot of adrenaline.

"Shh! Calm down Mr. Jane! You'll rip open your stitches again like you did last night" the nurse warned him, hitting a call button for more help.

"Let me go...I gotta go home" Patrick cried, dissolving in tears as his life spun out of control, just like it had so very long ago. "Please…" he begged softly now, trying to get the nurse to stop her work and just look at him.

"It's alright Mr. Jane. You're safe. No one will hurt you again. You're in a hospital in Austin Texas. You had surgery last night and you already tore some of those stitches out in the middle of the night. That's why we had to tie you down" she explained, finally talking directly to him.

"Take them off...let me go…" he whispered, not listening, scared. He was so damned scared.

"Jane?" a voice called, fear in her voice.

"Teresa?" Patrick replied, trying to look past the nurse who blocked his view of the doorway.

Teresa jogged across the floor and almost pushed the young nurse out of the way.

"Teresa. Tell them to let me go! I can't move!" he cried, begging her to be his saviour.

Turning to the nurse, Teresa pointed to the restraints and took over.

"Please remove those right now."

"I'll have to wait for the doctor to order it" the young woman started to say but Teresa cut her off.

"Take those off my husband this instant. It's panicking him! Can't you see that? Take them off and he'll calm right down, I promise" she barked. Without waiting for the girl to do as she was told, Teresa reached for Jane's left wrist and unbuckled the cuff encircling his wrist. As his hand fell to the bed, he could have kissed her right there and then with relief. She got busy with the second cuff while the nurse silently unbuckled the band going around Jane's midsection. Just then the Doctor came into the room and and saw what was happening.

The nurse was about to protest but the Doctor just waved her away, allowing Teresa to set her husband free.

"Teresa….thank you" he sighed as she bent down to kiss his lips. She lingered, letting his warm lips savour her kiss as he inhaled her special scent.

As she straightened up, the Doctor came forward, a slight smile on his face.

"I'm sorry you were still tied to the bed when you woke up Mr. Jane. I was hoping the staff would get to you sooner."

"Why?" Jane asked, not hearing what the nurse had tried to tell him a few minutes ago. "Where am I?"

"Austin General Hospital, surgical unit. We operated on that knife wound last night Mr. Jane. It was pretty badly infected, but with antibiotics and plenty of rest, you'll soon be well. Just don't keep ripping out your stitches, OK?" the Doctor informed him.

"OK" Jane said softly, never taking his eyes off Teresa. Just a hospital. Not the mental ward. Just a stab wound. His fears were eased, one by one.

"I'll take good care of him" Teresa promised the Doctor.

"In that case, you're in good hands Patrick. Just try to relax, those nightmares won't do you any good while you recuperate" the Doctor said on his way out of the room. He had no idea how prophetic those words were.


	27. The Truth About That Day

Oh boy things are heating up for our little Jane family. Here's a bit more to keep you going!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 27

The Truth About That Day

Teresa grasped Patrick's hand and kissed him again, now that they were alone. Patrick threw his arms around Teresa and held on tightly. As recently as yesterday he thought he might never get the opportunity to do this ever again. She felt so good, so warm, so alive. As she lingered in his arms he inhaled her fresh scent. It smelled like love to him.

"Hi"

"Hi" he smiled, so relieved to see his wife again after so long. "I missed you" Patrick sighed, feeling exhausted and broken. Teresa straightened up and found a spot on the bed to sit close to her husband.

"I missed you too. Your nine lives are running out Mister" Teresa teased, seeing the sadness etched on his face. "Soon you'll be mortal, just like the rest of us."

Patrick just nodded, not amenable to being cajoled out of his depression. Teresa noticed everything. He wasn't acting like himself at all. He was painfully aware that she had witnessed his meltdown with the nurses when she arrived.

"Sorry I freaked out. Stupid…" he mumbled, embarrassed by his outburst. So unlike him.

"Don't even think about apologizing Patrick. You were so heavily sedated by Stockman and upset, confused...with a nightmare on top of all that according to the nursing staff, so you had every right to freak out" she sweetly admonished him. Still, he felt foolish. If she could talk him through his feelings maybe he'd perk up.

"What was your nightmare about that had you so upset?" Teresa asked cautiously.

Patrick held onto Teresa's hand like a tether, mooring him to the present. She was his lifeline, had been for many many years. He tried to conjure up the idea of his nightmare but instead of remembering it, he only felt the foreboding it had engendered.

"I don't remember it in detail, but it had something to do with all of us….you, me...Charlotte and Anika...Angela was there too I think. But I don't know why I thought of them, or what we were doing. I just got so scared" he admitted, uneasy about the dream.

"Don't worry if you can't remember the nightmare. We're all safe, you made it out alive, David is safe….it was just a dream. Maybe it's best forgotten if it makes you so sad" Teresa suggested.

Patrick smiled, seeing what she was trying to do. She was right though. If the dream had meaning he'd remember it eventually. He had other reasons to be embarrassed by his freak out.

"They had to strap me down Teresa. It was just like being back in that mental institution after Angela and Charlotte died. How crazy was I last night?"

Before Teresa could say anything to make him feel less ashamed, he continued.

"I was so out of control I ripped my stitches out. When I woke up and couldn't move, I panicked, wasn't thinking straight. It was like time had stood still. I was frightened it was all happening again" he tried to explain. Biting his lip he looked anywhere but at her worried face.

Teresa felt a wave of sadness roll over her. Jane's night had been fraught with anxiety and fear. Instead of sleeping blissfully and healing, he had returned to the worst days of his life, his mind betraying him again. And she had been so peacefully asleep she almost overslept! Now she felt ashamed of her easy return to regular life. Life for Patrick wouldn't return to normal for a long time yet, not after what Stockman had done to him. She had to show Patrick she understood his reaction.

"You have no reason to feel ashamed for what that monster did to you Patrick. This confusion, this mixing of the past and the present, Stockman did that to you, with drugs and fear and threats of death. A lesser man might not have survived at all, but you did Patrick. You beat Stockman at his own game. As far as panicking when you woke up tied to the bed, it makes sense to me. I'm sure I would have reacted the same way if I woke up strapped to my bed."

Teresa put her hand on Jane's face and gently turned his head around to make him look at her. She needed to get through to him.

"Those drugs Stockman gave you messed with your mind. The doctor here says the tox screen showed traces of a powerful hallucinogen in your system, plus GHB. That's a lot to deal with physically and mentally. It'll take time to get your thoughts in order, so go easy on yourself."

She stared deeply into his troubled eyes and wouldn't let go, couldn't let him flounder without being his saviour. After all, he had saved her so many years ago.

"Maybe you're right" Jane sighed, bewildered by all that had happened to him in such a short time.

"I usually am" Teresa crooned, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on his lips. Checking his bandages on his torso and head, she wanted to change the conversation to something less stressful.

"How are you now? How do you feel?"

Jane's hand went to his lower abdomen and when he touched his bandages, he winced. The torn stitches last night had aggravated his wound and he was in pain. The drain coming out from under the compress showed a dark, murky fluid. Infection.

"Hurts. And I'm stiff from being tied down for so long."

Teresa saw the pain pump and showed it to Jane. "You can hit this button when the pain gets to be too much. It will help without affecting your mind, so don't be afraid to use it" she suggested.

"Hit it" he groaned as he tried to get more comfortable. He was in no mood to be stoic. Teresa depressed the button and a minute later the pain meds started to work their magic, letting Patrick relax more and more.

When he felt better, Jane tried to sit up against Teresa's wishes. "Can I get up a bit?" Jane asked, looking at the button that would raise his bed. Teresa hesitated for just a minute then decided to let him feel better rather than wait for permission from an overworked nurse.

"Ok, but you tell me when to stop, OK Patrick? You can't sit up all the way, not yet" she warned him.

"Thanks."

Teresa pushed the button and the head of the bed slowly began to rise. When she felt it was enough, she stopped before Jane spoke up. She didn't want him to get dizzy on top of his other issues.

"Better now?" she asked, sitting on the side of the bed close to him.

"Much better." He gazed at her like a thirsty man longed for water. She was his north star, his safe haven, his heart. Just knowing she was safe and here, now, went a long way towards healing his anxiety.

"How's Anika? What did you tell her about me being away for so long?" Patrick asked, desperate to see his little girl again.

"She's fine, but she has really missed you. I told her you were away working for Uncle Cho and that you'd be home soon. Last night I told her you had a boo boo and needed to get better in the hospital. Be prepared for lots of hugs and kisses" Teresa smiled, remembering how enthusiastic KiKi was when she made her get well cards at the kitchen table. "I plan to bring her up to see you after lunch today."

"Good. I can't wait to have both of my girls with me" Patrick smiled. He lay back against his pillow and felt...out of harm's way, yes...but still...ill at ease. As the smile slid off his face, Teresa pressed him for what worried him.

"What is it Patrick? We're both safe, all three of us now, so you don't have to worry any more" she reminded him. "There's even an enormous guard outside your door. Cho put him there."

Patrick bit his lip and nodded. Teresa was right, they were safe. But he didn't feel it. Not completely. Questions about his final moments in captivity were demanding answers and wouldn't let him rest.

"What happened back there at the cement factory? I really don't have any idea what happened after Stockman tried to suffocate me" he asked his wife. That was his last memory, that bag cutting off all light, all air.

Sighing, Teresa held his hands between hers and had to tell him the whole story.

"We found David at the side of the highway going into Blanchard. He had managed to escape from the factory grounds and was trying to get someone to stop and take him to the police so he could lead them to you. Cho and I were going into Blanchard and realized who he was when he waved at the passing cars."

"So David made it out?" Patrick said, more to himself in happiness than to Teresa.

"He never stopped trying to rescue you, even when Cho told him to wait in an ambulance by the factory gate, he ignored him and ran across the compound looking for you. Good thing too, because when we got to you, you weren't breathing. David brought you back, and Cho helped" Teresa told him, not sure if it was a good idea for Jane to have that image in his head. But, he would find out soon anyway once Cho deposed him for his statement.

"Good thing he's so stubborn" Patrick grinned, remembering David encouraging him to keep walking, to stay awake. He owed his life to David.

"And Stockman? Did you get him?"

Teresa knew this question was coming, but she didn't want to tell Jane the truth. Stockman had been apprehended, then he escaped and was in the wind. Not what Patrick needed to hear right now.

(Unicorn Preschool)

A beige car pulled up to the school in a affluent neighbourhood in Austin. Behind a gate a class of 4 year old children ran around the yard playing on the playground equipment while their teacher watched over them. Mark noted where the cameras were on the building and pulled his baseball cap low over his face before he turned to walk in the front door. He had placed a call to the Director of the school first thing this morning, setting his plan in motion.

A receptionist sat behind a high desk, with a variety of small toys and plastic animals arranged across the top of her desk. Stockman noted the door into the actual school was locked with a keypad. Parents would have to know the combination to enter the property.

"Good morning!" Miss Taylor said to Stockman. "How can I help you?"

"Morning. I'm Peter Kindler, here to see Mrs. Chase. I have an appointment at 10 o'clock" he smiled. He had called to go for a tour of the school, saying he was new to town and wanted to find a good school for his little boy.

The receptionist saw his name on her list of appointments and rang a bell.

"Mrs. Chase will be out in just a minute. Can I get you to sign in?" she asked, proffering a clipboard with a spot for his name and address, phone number and email address.

Stockman filled in his fake name, a made up address and a non-existent email address. The phone number he left blank.

"Sorry, don't have a phone yet, just moved in and my cell phone needs to be replaced. I can get that for you later" he offered, handing the clipboard back.

"I'm sure that will be fine" she smiled. There was time for that if he decided to place his child here at the school.

Stockman sat in a chair and waited for just a few minutes before the door opened and the school Director came out to greet him.

"So nice to meet you Mr. Kindler. Thank you for considering our school for your little boy."

"Nice to meet you too. This will be Henry's first school so I want the experience to be a positive one. Your rating is very high" Stockman said, playing to the Director's ego.

"Well let's go in shall we?" she indicated, opening the locked door and waving Stockman inside.

He was now inside the school where KiKi Jane sat in a class somewhere.

"How old is Henry?" Mrs. Chase asked.

"He's almost 3, so he's busy talking, very curious and active. It will be nice for him to make some new friends" Stockman lied, knowing KiKi had to be around that age herself.

"Why don't we start with that classroom then? Let you see where Henry will be if he joins our school" the woman suggested.

"OK, thank you."

Mrs. Chase walked ahead of Stockman as he stared at the hallway, the classrooms on either side and all of the small children as they played and participated in classroom activities. It looked like a wonderful school.

"Here we are" Mrs. Chase said, stopping at a bright blue door labelled 'Ducklings' "These are the kids who are 3 or almost 3. They really start to use language so much better at this age and we encourage them to talk and tell us their stories. We do a lot of reading and play acting to bring out their language skills" the woman explained.

"Good, very good" Stockman said distractedly, gazing at the kids looking for KiKi. Two children ran up to Mrs. Chase and showed her some pictures they had just made. While she looked at their artwork, Stockman stepped farther into the room and scanned the little faces.

There she was. By the dollhouse. A beautiful child by any measure. She looked up and smiled at him and he waved back. The connection had been made. He had no need to stay any longer.

Mrs. Chase returned to him and offered to show him around more, but he declined and said he suddenly wasn't feeling well and didn't want to make the kids sick.

"So sorry to hear that but we can reschedule your visit for another day" Mrs. Chase suggested, leading him back towards the front office.

"I would appreciate that. Sorry to have wasted your time, but that airport food is getting to me" he explained.

"No problem. Just call and we can do this again" she told him, shaking his hand before he left. "Bye for now."

"Thank you Mrs. Chase, bye. I'll call again" he said before he slipped outside.

He jogged over to his car and pulled away. Time to grab some fast food and then come back to watch the school. Sooner or later, KiKi would be coming out of that front door, and when she did, he'd have her.

(Austin General Hospital)

Jane waited for Teresa to answer his question. Was Stockman sitting in a jail cell waiting for his date with a judge? Teresa couldn't duck his question, but answering it truthfully could set his recovery back by a long long time. Lying to Jane wasn't an option. He could always tell when she was being untruthful, and if she lied about Stockman getting away and didn't tell him, Patrick would be furious. There was no good solution. No matter what, Patrick would be very upset. But the truth is what he deserved. So…

Taking a deep breath, Teresa told him the rest of the story.

"When we found you, David had already stopped Mark Stockman from escaping. He threw a heavy disk at him and knocked him off the fence as he tried to climb out of the enclosure. He was injured but arrested and taken to the jail in Markdale where he would stay before being transferred to the cells at the FBI in Austin."

Jane noticed the odd way Teresa described Stockman's incarceration. ' _Where he would stay_ '. There was something there she didn't want to tell him.

"But?"

Looking away to compose herself, Teresa braced herself for what was coming next.

"But, he was injured in the fall and a doctor was called. He examined Stockman and said he needed to go to the hospital for more tests before he would sign off on having him transferred to Austin."

Jane could see Teresa struggling to get the rest of the story out, but he could guess why.

"He's gone. Isn't he?" Jane said with tightly controlled anger. "The local police screwed up and he's gone. Just get it out Teresa, you'll feel better."

Teresa looked down at their joined hands and nodded silently. "Yes, he's gone. Once he got to the hospital in Markdale he wrestled a gun away from the officer guarding him and locked all three officers and a medical technician in a closet. He escaped with the gun into the crowds at visiting hour and is out there somewhere. We have no idea where he is right now."

Jane bit back a harsh response seeing as this was not Teresa's fault, but he knew damned well Stockman had played the local cops. Where would he go? What would he do now?

"Cho's on his way to Markdale to coordinate the search for Stockman but he might already be across the border by now" Teresa added.

Patrick wiped his face with his hands and reached for a cup of water. Teresa stood up and handed him some fresh water, waiting for his reaction. Jane drank deeply, thinking, turning this information around in his head, seeing Stockman and his sociopathic personality in its full rampaging glory. He wouldn't run for the border. Too predictable, too dangerous.

"Tell Cho to come back to Austin. Stockman isn't going to stay around Blanchard County. Everyone he hates is right here. We need to look for him in Austin" Jane said with certainty.

"But we put out a story on the TV and radio that you were dead, without naming you. He won't be coming for you Patrick. And as for David, he has no idea where he is, so who would he be coming for?"

Patrick felt sure that he was missing something. Stockman was coming. That was undeniable. If not for himself, then Jane assumed it had to be for David. Although she doubted Stockman was in Austin, Teresa got on her phone and called Cho immediately. Jane was usually right about these things, but how he knew was still a mystery to her.

The threat against Anika was still buried deep in his mind, deeply hidden by trauma and until recently, sedation. There was so little time left for him to recall Stockman's final threat of revenge against himself and Teresa. Patrick didn't know it, but the clock was already ticking down, moving ever closer to the ultimate culmination of Stockman's evil. And it would all fall upon the narrow shoulders of a tiny little girl.


	28. A Promise Kept

Well I can tell from your comments and reviews that you are getting very concerned for little Anika. Keep your fingers crossed that someone will figure all this out sooner rather than later! Sorry for all the stress this is causing! Thank you to all the new readers and those who favourited this story. Much appreciated.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 28

A Promise Kept

Across town, Benita took a light jacket out of her closet and locked her apartment door. She had time to pick up her groceries and do a few more errands before she drove over to the preschool to pick up Anika and drive her over to the hospital. The Jane family had become her family now that her adult kids had moved away and her husband had died. Without Kiki to care for and the love and friendship Patrick and Teresa showered upon her, Benita's days would be long and empty. She was a strong woman, hard working and active, which made her the perfect nanny for Anika. Humming as she bustled out of her apartment complex, she made her plans and looked forward to saying 'hello' to Mr. Jane herself. She'd pick up a snack along the way and by the time Anika had finished her little lunch, they would be on their way to see her sick Daddy. It would be such a happy reunion!

(Austin General Hospital)

Teresa sat with Patrick for more than 2 hours but by then his energy was flagging. His constant yawning told her she had overstayed her first visit. This time yesterday he was still in hiding, so no wonder he was finding it hard to stay awake. He had finished off two cups of tea and a very small breakfast, but more than anything, he just needed to lay back and sleep. He didn't have the heart to tell Teresa that sleep was the very thing that terrified him now. As his dreams became darker and darker, Patrick got less and less rejuvenating sleep but much more stressed out from his horrific visions. He hoped it was just the last vestiges of the trauma Stockman had put him through over the last few days. If it was more than that, he feared for his sanity.

Teresa depressed the button that lowered the head of the bed and Patrick was soon on his back again. Fluffing his pillow and asking if there was anything else he needed, Teresa made to leave.

"I'm going to let you have a little sleep before Anika arrives with Benny. I contacted Cho and told him you think the search for Stockman needs to be here in Austin."

Leaning down to embrace Patrick she whispered "Be good for me," then she kissed his lips. What sounded like a contented purr came from Patrick's chest. If he had his way he'd pull Teresa into the bed with him and hold onto her like a lifeline while he slept. Maybe that would keep the demons away. Instead, he smiled and seemed fine with taking another nap.

"Thanks for staying so long. I get so lonely when you're not with me" he said with fatigue.

"I promise to be here when you wake up. Do you need any pain medication?" she asked before she walked away.

"Yes, please. One for the road" Patrick grinned as she pressed the button on the pump and the medicine flowed into his vein. "See you soon" she smiled as she turned to go.

"Love you" Patrick called after her. 'Miss you already' he thought. "Love you too" he heard her say as his eyes closed with relief and the smile slid off his face. The pain had already started to recede. Five minutes later he was deeply asleep.

Teresa went downstairs to call Cho again and tell him of Jane's fragile mental condition and unnamed fears. While his memory was shaky, she knew he had some inkling that things were not as they seemed. Until he could organize his thoughts and remember more details of his last horrific day with Stockman, the FBI would have to carry on with the limited amount of information they had.

(11:30 A.M. Austin)

Benita had all of her groceries and parcels put away at her apartment and now set out to pick up Anika. By the time she got to the school, KiKi would have finished her lunch and would be bouncing up and down in joyous anticipation of seeing her Daddy again. Just picturing that reunion made Benita smile.

Across town, Stockman had found some new clothes and looked as respectable as he could for his mission today. He drove over to the school and parked at the end of the parking lot, keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the school. As it got closer to lunch time, a few more visitors came and went from the school, but he was only interested in seeing if one particular child would be leaving the school before the usual dismissal time. There was no way he knew if Anika was going to stay inside all day until 3pm, but if she did, he'd find something else to do for a few hours, then return. He had time on his side as long as the FBI had no idea he had come to Austin in search of retribution.

He was growing bored. Sitting in this shitty beige car was embarrassing but necessary. After 40 minutes he decided Anika wasn't going anywhere until the school day ended. He put away his snacks and finished his soft drink, throwing all the junk into the back seat. Just as he began to pull out of his parking spot, a small red car drove up to the school and parked in the visitor's spot close to the front of the building. An older woman got out of the car and entered the school. Within five minutes, she came back out with a little girl by her side. Stockman's interest went through the roof! It was Anika Jane! That had to be her babysitter taking her somewhere. Stockman waited patiently, knowing he had to stay away from the cameras on the front of the building. He watched as the woman put Anika into her child seat in the car, then walked around and got behind the wheel. He got ready. Benita pulled out of her parking space and backed up, turned around and headed straight towards him. Stockman hastily got out of his car and walked in front of the red car, then stumbled and fell heavily onto the ground, tumbling and appearing disoriented. Benita stopped her car in concern and ran over to the man to offer assistance if he was hurt, while Anika watched the whole event unfolding with childish interest. She had never seen a grown up fall down before, just like a kid.

"Are you alright sir?" Benita asked as the man gathered himself up and tried to stand. He appeared shaky but not badly hurt. "Here, give me your hand and I'll help you stand" Benita suggested.

"I don't know what happened! Must have tripped over my shoelace!" Stockman said as Benita got closer. When she was right beside him, Stockman reached out and grasped her proferred hand and as he quickly stood up, he pulled Benita towards him with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Ow! You're hurting me!" Benita cried, suddenly in his iron-fisted control.

"Shut up or I slit your throat right here and now!" he hissed, all the while walking her back towards her car. From the inside of the school, anyone looking out would have seen a woman helping a man who had just fallen. It appeared he was escorting her back to her car. Nothing was amiss.

"Get in the car!" he ordered her as she went white with panic.

"No! I will not!" Benny screamed, suddenly fearing for KiKi more than herself.

"Do it or I kill the kid right now! You don't want that on your head do you Granny?" Stockman threatened.

"That my Benny!" Anika shouted, explaining her name in confusion. She wasn't her Granny!

"OK Benny, get behind the wheel or both of you die in the next minute" Stockman ordered Benita. He pointed a gun at her from low on his hip and she quickly complied with his order. As she slid behind the wheel, he got into the front passenger seat.

"Hello KiKi" Stockman said, smiling with delight at the little girl.

Kiki eyed the man with suspicion. Her Benny didn't like this grownup, so she didn't either. She clamped her jaws shut and wouldn't answer him.

"Where do you want me to drive?" Benita asked in a quavering voice, terrified for her life and for the life of her charge, Anika.

"Go see Daddy!" Kiki yelled, forgetting she didn't want to speak to this strange man. "See Daddy OK?"

Stockman was taken aback by what the small child was saying. Go see Daddy? Her Daddy, Asshole Jane? Where? At the cemetery? There's no way a funeral could have already happened. If not the cemetery, then where? That pain in the ass Jane was dead.

Wasn't he?

Stockman weighed all these options while he pointed his gun at Benita and told her to just drive. This kid might be his best source of information.

"KiKi. Where is your Daddy right now?" Stockman asked her, turning around to smile at her.

"Anika, don't you answer this man. Don't talk to him! He's a bad man!" Benita yelled, seeing what was happening.

"I said drive! One more word out of you and you go into the trunk with a bullet between your eyes Benny!" Stockman said angrily. His simple plan to molest Anika and then drown her was suddenly up in the air. His simple plan now had new meaning, if….

If Jane survived being suffocated.

If he was alive...everything would change.

Benita drove as well as she could considering she was so afraid that she felt faint. The school was on the outskirts of Austin proper and soon they would be on the road leading out into Hill Country, where cliffs and valleys ran along the edge of the highway. Sideroads let to smaller routes taken by hikers and rock climbers. If they drove off the main highway, it might be impossible to be found by the police before this evil man did something terrible to Anika.

KiKi was terrified. Two grownups were yelling at her and telling her to do different things. Who to obey? Benny always told her what to do when Mummy and Daddy were at work or out for the night. But this man was mean, so mean, and he was scaring her Benny. Should she do what he said so he would be nice again? Would Benny be mad at her if she talked to this mean man? Such a decision for a tiny girl. She did the only thing she could do under such conditions. Anika began to cry, sobbing uncontrollably for her Mummy and Daddy.

"I want Mummy! Mummy!" she sobbed, more frightened than she had ever been in her short sweet life.

"It's OK KiKi, we're going to your Mummy right now. Is she with your Daddy KiKi?" Stockman asked with as much control as he could muster. He hated little kids. Ankle biters...rugrats. He had a score of nasty names for small children. Benny looked in the rear view mirror and prayed Anika would keep crying and not tell the man anything. But those words promising a visit to her Mummy and Daddy were music to Anika's ears.

"We go see Mummy?" she asked, taking big shuddering breaths to get control of herself.

"Yes, we will go see your Mummy. And Daddy too" he added, still needing to know just what the hell was going on. Benita drove silently, praying the entire time.

"Daddy gots a boo boo" Anika innocently informed Stockman.

'Ahh...here we go' he thought.

"He does? Where?"

"Tummy" she said, patting her round belly. "And his head but I'ma give kisses" she added seriously, her attention now on happier thoughts.

"He'll like that. So your Daddy, is he in the hospital KiKi?" Stockman pressed her.

"KiKi! Be quiet!" Benny shouted, but got punched in her side for her trouble. As the car suddenly swerved across the road, Stockman grabbed the steering wheel and edged the car to the side of the road and pulled the keys out of the ignition. KiKi's eyes grew as large as saucers in surprise. Daddy didn't drive like this.

"I warned you to shut the hell up but you wouldn't listen you old trout! Get out!" Stockman screamed, pointing his gun at the cowering woman. Benita wrenched her door open and stumbled out of the car only to find Stockman waiting for her on the driver's side.

"Walk!" he shouted, pointing the way with his gun. There was no traffic on this section of the highway so Stockman had free reign to do whatever he wanted with these two. KiKi watched the man scare her Benny and she began to cry again. If this was a game it was a bad game and she didn't want to play. That man was really mean and loud. As they approached the trunk of the car, Stockman popped the hatch and the trunk opened. Benita feared she was about to die and hurriedly said a prayer for the safety of Anika even if it was too late for her to escape.

"Give me your cell phone! Now!" he yelled at the terrified woman. Benita took it out of her coat pocket and watched Stockman smash it against a pile of rocks.

"Get in and shut up!" Stockman ordered Benny, shoving his gun harshly into her ribs. Crying out in terror, she stepped up and fell into the dark trunk, only just getting her legs inside before Stockman slammed the lid down and walked back to the front seat. Anika looked for Benny to follow but she didn't come back to the car, causing her to wail in confusion.

"Where Benny? Where she go?" she cried, trying to unfasten her seat belt to climb out of the car and get away from this scary man. "I get Benny!"

Stockman turned around in his seat and raised his hand as if to slap her, then thought better of it. He tried to use a more soothing tone to control the child.

"It's just a game Anika. A fun game grownups play. Wanna play too? You'll have to stop all that crying first."

Pushed past her limits to control herself, Anika dissolved into great sobs, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to stop at his command. It was all she could do not to throw up. She was hysterical but tried to self soothe herself so the man wouldn't be so mad at her anymore.

"No play. No like this game. Wanna go home!" KiKi sobbed.

Unable to control Anika's fear, Stockman decided to just ignore her. Sooner or later she had to calm the hell down and shut up. Putting his gun down on the passenger seat, he pulled away, driving toward the Hill Country. If Jane was still alive, he would live to know what it felt like to lose his second daughter. It was a promise Stockman had made back at the cement factory and he always kept his promises. If Jane was indeed dead, well then, the pleasure of killing this kid would just be for the torment of Agent Teresa Jane and the edification of Mark Stockman. For him, it was a win-win situation that made him cackle with satisfaction.

(Austin General Hospital - 12:30 P.M.)

Jane was asleep, but he certainly wasn't resting. His mind was tormenting him with images he couldn't escape, images that destroyed his ability to find peace. The scene he saw in his sleep was breathtakingly clear and real. Anika was outside somewhere, in a green hilly place, on a crisp sunny day. Angela and Charlotte were some distance away, holding hands but calling out to Anika to run and come to them. Jane twisted slightly in the bed in concern. This felt all wrong. Someone else was there, with Anika. Jane's eyes traced back and forth under his eyelids scanning the scene, trying to see who was there who could help KiKi get back to safety. Where was Teresa? Was she there? Jane was going on feelings now, not what he could see in his nightmare, but the foreboding, the sense of impending danger was permeating his thoughts so completely he couldn't find Teresa anywhere. Anika was walking through the rough wet grass, holding someone's hand for support. Ahhh...Teresa...she must be with KiKi…

Jane's face contorted with anguish as the scene enlarged and a new person appeared. Teresa was nowhere to be seen and Angela and Charlotte were backing away as the person got closer. Jane did everything he could to see who was walking with his daughter but the figure was shadowy, the face turned away from him. Kiki was now struggling, trying to pull her small hand out of the much larger hand of the adult pulling her along. Patrick knew this was bad. He could feel the wrongness of the situation even if he couldn't determine why it was wrong.

'KiKi! Come to Daddy!' he called in his sleep, desperate to get her away from that person, but she couldn't hear him, couldn't see him. The scene moved slowly, painfully slowly, replaying itself over and over again with maddening clarity in an exhausting loop in his mind. Why didn't anyone see that Anika was in danger? Why did his body feel like it was cemented to the ground, a thing of leaden uselessness, unmoving, his voice unheard, his desperate waving ignored in his flailing attempts to draw attention to his little girl's plight. Sweat rolled down his temple.

'Anika! Come to me sweetie!' Jane yelled, his hands wringing the bed sheet into a tight ball.

Anika turned to look his way but her face was a mask of terror, her eyes large and black, devoid of humanity, dried tears staining her bright red cheeks. She opened her mouth to call out to him but no sound came out of her perfectly bowed lips. It was a silent scream of horror, and there was nothing Jane could do but watch everything play out in slow motion.

The person holding Anika by the hand kept walking her forward towards something shimmering, undulating in the bright and beautiful sun. Anika turned away from Jane and submitted to the man's commands.

The man. A man had her by the hand and was walking away from Jane with his little girl. Walking towards danger. Towards death.

A man. The man.

A pain pierced Jane's heart as he saw the face of the man walking away with his precious daughter. Stockman.

Mark Stockman was now pulling Anika forward, dragging her resisting legs through the grass towards that great shimmering mirage. Angela took Charlotte's hand and turned away, refusing to look at the scene unfolding before her. Jane cried out to her to stop, stay! Help Anika! Angela smiled sadly at Patrick but shook her head. No. She couldn't intervene on his behalf. This was a matter for those inhabiting the physical world, not denizens of the ether in which she and Charlotte resided. No matter how loudly he begged her in his mind, Angela couldn't help him. KiKi was totally alone now, at the mercy of Stockman. Jane wrestled with his sheets and became more tangled up as his body fought to run to the innocent child being taken away from him.

The elevator dinged as it arrived on the Surgical Unit and a few people stepped out into the hall. Teresa walked excitedly towards Patrick's room, hoping she had come back just before Anika and Benita arrived. She had KiKi's homemade get well cards in her hands and grinned knowing how much Jane would love them. She reached his door and pushed it open to find Jane twisting in agony in his bed, his sheets all but pulled out from under the mattress with his struggling. He was asleep but in obvious distress. Just one look at his writhing body told her he was in deep psychological pain. Dropping the cards onto a chair, she jogged over to his bedside.

"Jane!" she called out to him, worried he would hurt himself again. He continued to toss violently against his side railings.

"Patrick! Wake up! Wake up!" Teresa yelled, shaking him with her hands to get him to break free from his agonizing dream. Patrick twisted out of her arms and flailed against the bed frame, no doubt bruising his arms in the process.

"Patrick….please...open your eyes and look at me!" Teresa called out to him, not sure that waking him up so abruptly was the right thing to do but knowing he couldn't go on this way. Not knowing what else to do, she got a paper towel and doused it with ice cold water from his pitcher and put in on his face. Jane recoiled at the feel of the icy water and shuddered, in a nether world of half-sleep and half wakefulness.

"Jane, you're having a nightmare! Wake up my love" Teresa said to him, shaking him gently as a nurse entered the room to see what the ruckus was.

"Nightmare" Teresa said succinctly, not caring to have a long discussion with the woman. The nurse took a face cloth and wet it down, placing it on Patrick's forehead, hoping the cooling sensation perhaps would speed up his ability to surface from his sleeping torments.

Anika turned to look at her Daddy and cried out for him, a long keening wail that only he could hear. With a jolt he felt icy coldness flush his forehead, adding to his confusion. But the icy jolt made Anika and Stockman recede from his sight, their voyage through the long grass towards a shining lake becoming opaque and hazy. As he reached out for them as if to hold them in place, they faded into the mist, then they were gone.


	29. Shattered

Thank you to my Guest reviewers for you comments and support. Sorry I can't reply to Guests, but I do love to hear from you.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 29

Shattered

"Jane! Wake up!"

Jane heard a voice that made sense to him in the midst of his nightmare. A voice he trusted, a voice he leaned towards, needed to hear again. A voice that conveyed safety and support. Teresa. He wanted to see her, know she was not just a phantasm as insubstantial as the mist. As his eyes began to flutter open, Teresa leaned over Jane and spoke quietly to him, close to his ear. "It's alright now Patrick. It was just a dream but you're going to be fine. You're safe and so am I and so is KiKi" she added, glad KiKi hadn't come to his room yet to witness her Daddy being so upset.

The nurse stepped between them and checked Jane's vitals, concerned by his rapid heart rate and elevated blood pressure. The monitor had gone off again at the nurses station, the second time today. Not a good sign for this patient. The man just wasn't getting any better due to all this stress. She rang the bell to summon the doctor, knowing full well Mr. Jane had to be sedated for his own good. Any more exertions like this and he'd undo all the repairs the surgeon had done the night before. Patrick opened his eyes and stared up at his wife, frightened beyond words and confused by her sudden appearance. Just seconds ago he was at a lake...he could still smell the water and the wet grass. Angela and Charlotte had been there, so was Anika, but with an evil man.

Gazing at Teresa, the nurse, and the bed he was lying in, Patrick snapped back to reality. Ignoring the growing pain in his gut from his knife wound, he tried to sit up and climb out of the bed. Both women had to hold him down.

"Teresa... let me go! He's got her!" he said, hurting from his exertions. His throat was dry and his voice ragged from anxiety. Patrick's heart raced like a jackrabbit chased by bloodhounds. Teresa was startled by his sudden emotional decline. When she had seen him before lunch he was so much calmer. What had happened to make him deteriorate so much? Patrick was acting almost manic in his behaviour. Teresa put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back down onto the mattress. At this rate he would be back in surgery to repair yet more stitches.

"Patrick please, lie still and relax. You can't get up yet, you're too weak and sick. Don't be in such a hurry to get out of this bed!" she scolded him, worried now by his reckless actions. He knew better.

"He's got her!"

"I don't understand. Who's got who Patrick?" she asked, her world still a safe place, still unruined by Stockman and his sick plans for her baby. She still had the blessing of innocence.

"Stockman...he's got Anika" Jane whispered, frail and terrified at the sound of his voice saying those words.

Teresa stood up and glanced at the nurse, who just shrugged her shoulders in confusion. Poor man was so rattled, clearly unstable.

"Jane! KiKi is fine. She was at school all morning and now Benita is bringing her over to see you. They'll be here any minute!" Teresa assured him. She put her hands on his face and caressed him, hoping to make him see reason.

"Call!" Jane said, desperately grabbing Teresa's hand. "Make sure! Call Benny!" What he had seen in his dream was too real to ignore, logic be damned.

Teresa could see how certain Jane was that what he had seen in his dream was a reality, so she wouldn't try to argue with him, not now at least.

"Sure, no problem. I'll give her a call and she can tell you when we can expect her" Teresa said reassuringly.

Patrick sighed and gratefully accepted a drink of cold water from the watchful nurse. She kept a close eye on the cardiac monitor, anticipating the doctor's orders once he reviewed Jane's poor vitals and noticed his generally panicked state. These kinds of emotional outbursts were not going to help him recover from his surgery. While Patrick gulped down his water, Teresa placed a call to Benita's phone. As Patrick watched her expression change, he knew something wasn't right.

"What is it Teresa?" he asked when she put her phone away with a dark look on her face.

"Benny's phone is out of service" she said quietly, a tiny thread of fear creeping up her spine.

Jane almost dropped his cup of water onto the bed as he imagined what that meant.

"He's got her Teresa!" he said as he tried yet again to get out of his bed. The nurse stepped over and gently pushed him down against the mattress. "Lie back Mr. Jane or you'll rip open your stitches again!"

Teresa tried to cajole him into seeing the reasons why Benita might be unable to receive her call.

"Jane, Benita might be in a dead zone, her battery could have died, she could be in an elevator, it's probably nothing to worry about" Teresa tried to explain, but as she did she turned and stared at the door, willing it to open and reveal KiKi and Benny entering the room with big smiles. Jane was beside himself with anxiety and frustration. Why didn't she listen? KiKi was in danger and everyone just spouted platitudes!

"No! Stockman...he took her! I remember Teresa! My nightmare! At the cement factory, when Stockman found me under the floor where David had hidden me, he pulled me out and said he was going to kill me, but first, he wanted me to know that after I was dead, he was coming for Anika. He was going to take her and ….and…" his voice faltered in anguish. Saying something so evil out loud could make it real, could make it happen. He knew from experience about such things.

Teresa felt like she was glued to the floor as this new revelation changed everything. This was what was keeping Jane in torment all night long.

"My God Patrick...what is he going to do?" Teresa whispered, feeling sick with fear.

"He's going to ...use her...like he did with Lynn Michaels...then drown her. Just to get even with you and make you suffer. He put that plastic bag over my head...and" he choked out, before wracking sobs caused his voice to break down. The nurse rang his bell for assistance again while Teresa scooped him up into her arms.

"They...they should be here by now...Benny and KiKi" he said to Teresa, knowing without a shred of doubt his enemy had carried out his promise. "If he does to Kiki what he did to Lynn..."

A blackness descended over Jane, bringing with it the terrible curse of knowing exactly what would happen to him if KiKi died. It would be just like when Charlotte died. Just like when Angela died. But this time, there would be no coming back from that darkness. What was left of Patrick Jane would slip away and be consumed into the void of insanity even as his body lived. All attempts to struggle against Teresa and the nurse died away as Jane recoiled into himself, his mind a hungry animal devouring all hope of running to Anika's rescue. As Jane fell limply against his pillow, Teresa got her phone out and placed a call to Cho while she ran to the door to look for her daughter to step off the elevator.

"Cho! Listen! Patrick remembered something! Stockman said he was going to kidnap Anika and assault her then drown her after he killed Patrick. Jane believes he already has her. Cho, they should be here by now, KiKi and her babysitter!" she spat out quickly. Cho listened with concern and didn't interrupt. That was his god-child and he loved her dearly. He was already back in Austin and cursed himself that so much time had been wasted on a wild goose chase in Blanchard County looking for Stockman. If that precious child died under his watch...

"I'll call the school and see if Benita left with Anika yet then put out an APB on her car. Teresa, Patrick could just be confused. This might not be anything except a traffic delay" Cho told Teresa hoping that for once Jane was completely wrong. But he knew, from experience, Jane was usually right.

"Find them Cho!" Teresa barked before she hung up. Turning back to Patrick, she found him clutching his sides in distress while the nurse tried to get him to relax. A doctor appeared and quickly examined Jane, who was now almost catatonic with grief. His heart rate was still high but it was coming down as he stopped struggling, but his blood pressure was dangerously elevated, and a fever was beginning to spike. The man was not thriving. Faced with a patient who was clearly in dangerous emotional distress, the doctor decided to calm Patrick down with a tranquilizer, so he'd get some rest. As he approached with the syringe to knock Jane out with sedation, Jane saw it, and yelled at the man to leave him alone.

"Mr. Jane, you're upset from your dream. Your heart is in distress and you need to calm down. This will help you sleep and when you wake up, you'll feel so much better" the doctor tried to explain, but Jane would have none of it.

"I need to stay awake and think. My little girl has been kidnapped and I have to think, have to figure out where he took her!" he barked at the surprised doctor. Teresa got between the doctor and Patrick, protecting him from further attempts to knock him out.

"It's alright. Sedation is the last thing Patrick needs right now. If you really want to help, make him a pot of tea and let him work through this his way" Teresa said to the nurse and doctor.

"But he's in distress" the doctor began to explain, but Teresa cut him off.

"You don't know Patrick, I do. Our daughter might have been kidnapped today. We both need to stay alert to find the bastard who took her. Sedating Patrick isn't the answer. Please, just make him as comfortable as possible and let him think" she pleaded, holding Patrick's hand in solidarity.

Seeing he wasn't going to sway either the patient or his wife, the doctor put the cap back on the syringe and took Teresa aside with concern.

"Is this just a fantasy of his or is his daughter really in danger?" he had to ask.

"It's no fantasy. A killer promised Patrick he would kidnap his daughter, and right now, we don't know where she is" she explained quickly, on the verge of tears just saying those words.

Teresa looked at her watch and felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. It was too late for this to be anything as mundane as a traffic delay. Before she could explain more, her cell phone rang. Cho was calling her back. So soon.

"Cho! Please tell me you found them!" Teresa said without thinking.

Cho only had more bad news and there was no way to sugarcoat it. "Teresa, no, we didn't. But we found a beige car abandoned in the parking lot of Anika's school. It was reported stolen yesterday in Blanchard County by a man matching Stockman's description. We think Stockman drove it to Austin" he explained, but Teresa didn't hear the rest. As his words sank in, the reality that Stockman had been at Anika's school today levelled her. The phone fell out of her hand as she collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

(Texas Hill Country outside Austin)

Stockman watched the highway for a place to exit into a more secluded area. He had to get rid of the old bat in the trunk of the car. There were innumerable sideroads that led to old ranches, hiking spots and walkways down to parched riverbeds. At last he found the one he was looking for. Stockman took a little used dirt sideroad off the main highway that led to a winding path overlooking a ravine, filled in with rocks and sharp needled shrubs. He found a particularly rough area and pulled the car over to the sandy shoulder and parked. Anika had calmed down and was now furiously sucking her thumb, a habit she had long ago given up. She needed as much comfort as she could find and her thumb was about as good at it was going to get. Stockman turned off the engine and quickly exited the car, leaving Anika alone again. She watched him walk around to the back of the car and for an excited moment realized he was going to let Benny out of the trunk again. Popping the latch, Stockman lifted the trunk and dragged Benita out, letting her fall into the dirt.

"Get up and walk!" he barked. Benita did as she was told and stole a quick peek inside the backseat to see that Anika was still alright. KiKi smiled with happiness to see her beloved Benny again.

"KiKi sweetie are you OK?" Benny shouted through the glass, but was shoved forward by Stockman before she could hear Anika's answer. KiKi shouted for Benny to come and get her, but Benny kept walking, leaving Anika confused and sad. Why didn't Benny come and get her and take her home to Daddy and Mummy?

Feeling the gun pressing into the small of her back, Benita walked silently ahead of Stockman until her told her to stop. She looked down into the ravine and knew what was going to happen next. She folded her hands in front of her and started to pray. She believed she was going to die in this desolate place, but not without a fight. 'God, save Anika and let her go home again!'

As Benita swayed on the side of the road, she took her one and only chance to attack Stockman and rescue Anika. When she saw Stockman pocket his gun, Benny swung her considerable size against him and tried to knock him down. She took him by surprise but his younger age and quicker reflexes saved him from going over the edge of the bluff. As he steadied himself, he turned on the older woman and suddenly lunged forward, pushing her over the edge. Benita careened down the rocky embankment to the dry ground far below. He watched her tumble and fall like a dry leaf blown by the autumn wind. He waited until she landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the incline 25 feet below. When she didn't move after many minutes, he turned around and jogged back to the car.

KiKi looked everywhere for her Benny outside the car but only the mean man came back, getting behind the steering wheel instead of Benita.

"Where Benny go?" she wailed, looking out of the windows for her babysitter.

"Benny is walking home. She didn't want to go see your Daddy. Such a mean lady. But we can go find your Daddy, OK?" he said, hoping she would stop her screeching.

"I want Benny! Bennnnnny!" she wailed, so afraid of this strange man who now was in control.

She took ragged breaths between sobs and was unable to stop her hysterical crying. Stockman had little patience for kids on a good day, and today wasn't a good day. He had been searching the Hill Country for a small, remote lake to drown the child, but with Benny dead and the cops only hours away from discovering KiKi's kidnapping, he had to rethink that idea. He had originally planned to slowly molest Anika and make her suffer, but now he just wanted to get all this over with and move on to better times ahead. He'd had enough of this miserable kid. If Jane _was_ alive, he would suffer the loss of his second daughter. It didn't matter where she died, as long as the kid died. It was so beautiful really.

At least Stockman thought so with a grin.

(Austin General Hospital)

Teresa lay on the green tiled hospital room floor. The confirmation from Cho that Stockman had been outside Anika's school felled her instantly. For all her bravado, there was a limit to what she could take and after everything Patrick had so recently suffered, this was the limit. As the blood returned to her brain, she began to awaken, but felt woozy and disoriented. Warm hands placed a cool cloth on Teresa's forehead to arouse her slowly. In the distance she could hear a very distressed Patrick desperately calling her name. What was going on?

"Mrs. Jane? Are you alright now?" a kind voice asked close to her ear. Teresa opened her eyes to see a nurse kneeling in front of her while a doctor restrained Jane as he looked on with concern. If Jane had been able to get out of his bed he would have been holding her right now but he remained trapped on his small island of bedsheets, IV lines and the presence of the doctor. Teresa was lying on the floor for some reason.

"Teresa? Are you alright?" he called out to her. Teresa looked at Jane, saw the hospital room, his bandages, his distraught expression, and suddenly the reality of their situation returned with a heart stopping blow to her emotions. Anika!

Teresa tried to stand and go back to Patrick, who was himself trying to get up and walk over to her against the doctor's orders, but the nurse told her to sit for a while. Shaking her head with determination, Teresa slowly got up and walked as steadily as she could back to Patrick and grasped his hand, guiltily. Now he had to worry about her too on top of his desperate concern for Anika. He was just barely hanging on himself.

"I'm OK. Just...felt shocked there for a minute. Sorry" she mumbled, the true horror of Anika's precarious hold on life terrifying her.

The nurse pulled the chair up to the side of the bed and urged Teresa to sit, then poured her a glass of water.

"Thank you. Really, I'm OK" she said gratefully as she eased down onto the chair to steady her nerves. She glanced up at Jane and saw a new clarity in his eyes. Fear had galvanized his thinking and he was almost pulsating with seething anger and despair.

"What happened Teresa? Who was that on the phone?" he demanded to know.

Teresa licked her dry lips and hated to say the next few words. But she had no choice anymore.

"That was Cho. The FBI found a stolen car in the parking lot of Anika's preschool."

"Go on."

"It was stolen yesterday in Blanchard. Jane, it was stolen by Stockman, I'm sure of it. He's got our baby" she said as those words ruined her yet again. She fell apart completely, dissolving in tears. Scooping his wife up in his arms, Patrick felt useless, rendered ineffectual by his injuries, but he needed to get the hell out of that damned bed to find his little girl! He was trapped by pain, infection and weakness and it was no different now than when Red John had massacred his family all those years ago. He had been pretty damned useless back then as well. He had been so useless he ended up in a hospital, not that much different from this one except here, he wasn't in a straight jacket. Not yet. Now all he could do was soothe his distraught wife. Goddammit! Teresa was trying to pull herself together for Jane's sake. He remained as calm as he could considering the near nausea he was feeling now. With unnatural calm he spoke again.

"I need your phone Teresa. I need to speak to David."

Teresa numbly handed over her cell phone while she grappled with her emotions. She watched Patrick as if he was on TV and she was a spectator. She simply did as she was told. She slowly drank the cold water trying to stay connected to reality while Patrick called the safe house. A moment later he was put through to David. A rapid fire conversation ensued, with Jane ending it with a look of faint hope in his eyes. Teresa was in a very dark place, her world diminished to the few square feet in this hospital room. KiKi was missing. She knew, as did Jane, that Stockman had somehow wrested her away from Benita. That dear lady might well be dead by now too. Jane was trying to tell her something, but she had trouble hearing him. What was he saying?

"Teresa….listen to me. Teresa!"

As his words finally got through to her, Teresa lifted her eyes and nodded. "What did David say?"

"David said Stockman will most likely go to ground, not risk taking Anika to a public place like a lake around Austin. This time of year there are too many boaters out on the water, and he wouldn't have the chance to hide a child from prying eyes. He says to go low, look in every scuzzy place we can think of. We need to find out where Stockman is staying and search there!"

As their eyes met, Teresa felt the ground under her feet once more, felt her heart pounding in her chest and the fear in her bones. If David was right, there remained a tiny chance that they could still get to Anika before Stockman carried out his plans. They had surprise on their side, their only advantage. Stockman didn't know they might deduce his destination! Teresa snapped to attention. This information might save their daughter if the FBI located his hideout fast enough! She grabbed the phone out of Patrick's hand and called Cho, telling him the latest news, praying he and his team wouldn't be too late.

"We're on it. We checked the video at the preschool and have Stockman pulling up in the beige car and kidnapping Benita and Anika in Benita's red car. I've got Wylie checking traffic cameras for that part of Austin to see if we can trace Stockman backwards in time to see where he came from. CCTV cameras might help us find him before he harms KiKi. Teresa, we'll do everything we can to find Anika and bring her home" he said, trying to reassure Teresa and Patrick that everything that could be done was being done.

"You stay with Jane and let us handle this one Teresa" he said before he hung up. She pocketed her phone and considered his words. No.

Cho was her boss but she couldn't obey him, not this time. This was her baby in danger. This was Jane's second chance at fatherhood.

No. She wouldn't stay behind and just wait for Anika to be found.

Teresa stood up and swallowed the rest of the water, fully back in control of herself. Jane didn't have to know that Cho had ordered her to stay behind. That she could not do. If Cho honestly believed she would follow that order, he didn't know her at all.

Turning to her husband, Teresa prepared to leave. "Patrick, I'm going to get Anika and bring her home. Please don't try to follow me! I can't handle worrying about both of you. Promise?"

Teresa gave Patrick a look that demanded his obeyiance. Every fibre in his body screamed for him to find a way to get out of his sick bed and go rescue his little girl, but he couldn't, and he wouldn't cause Teresa any more worry than she already had.

"I promise. Stay in touch" he said as she kissed him goodbye. "We're going to catch that son of a bitch before he hurts KiKi!" she whispered in his ear before she turned for the door. Jane nodded silently. She was still his fierce little princess. As she hurried across the room he felt a pang of despair. It might already be too late...

"Teresa! Be careful!" Jane called after her. She left without another word as Jane collapsed back upon his bed, his knife wound screaming for pain medication while his brain ached for peace. There was no point suggesting that she stay behind and wait. Not when it was her baby out there in danger.


	30. Listen To Your

Ok, got time for another chapter before the weekend. Enjoy!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 30

Listen To Your Heart

(Hill Country - Somewhere outside Austin)

The dusty yellow jacket fluttered in the fall breeze. A bloodied hand with torn fingernails contracted and grabbed a fistful of dirt. Groaning with pain and shock, Benita opened her eyes to discover she was lying face down in soft dirt and a scattering of rocks. Confused and hurt, she tried to sit up but her left wrist wouldn't bend properly. She stared at it with uncomprehending eyes, noting the odd, dinner fork shape the back of her wrist now resembled. Where was she and why was she lying down in the sand? Benny looked around with curiosity to see what could have happened to her. As soon as she looked up and saw the road above, it all came back to her with awful clarity. She remembered a terrible man who had pushed her over the edge of the embankment. The man who had kidnapped Anika! With no idea how long she had been lying in the dirt, Benita panicked, realizing he could be far away by now, doing unspeakable things to that radiant child. Was he a sexual pervert or just someone out to extort money from Mr. and Mrs. Jane? Whatever the reason, he was the devil himself as far as Benny was concerned. She had to do something! Had to tell someone!

Benny patted her pocket for her phone then remembered the man had taken it and smashed it. Totally alone out there in a forgotten valley, she had to find a way to tell someone about the madman and his small hostage. With grim determination Benita slowly sat up and checked herself for injuries. She was a tall, fit woman who walked several miles a day when she was not busy with Anika. Her Texan childhood had been spent outdoors walking, riding her bike and running free instead of sitting inside watching TV shows and being driven everywhere. She was very strong. Aside from a possible broken wrist and very badly cut up knees and shins, she seemed to be alright. Only when she reached up to pull her hair out of her eyes did she realize her face was covered in blood as well. Checking her head carefully she discovered a large goose egg and a bloody cut above her left eye. Her nose also was bleeding and when she touched it to see if it was cut, she cried out in pain. It was broken. Whatever… it wasn't going to slow her down.

She stood up on shaky legs and faced the wall in front of her. She had no other choice but to climb out of that canyon alone. With one good hand and determination, she had to climb up that rocky bluff and find help as soon as possible. Reaching out, she grabbed a handful of long grass with her undamaged hand and began the arduous climb toward the road 25 feet above her and possible rescue.

(Highway 71 outside of Austin)

Stockman was listening to the radio to check the local news to see if his name came up. At the moment, the miserable kid in the back seat had grown quiet, sucking her thumb and wiping her eyes. She was completely cried out and sat slumped in her small car seat, exhausted by fear of this unknown adult. The man driving the car had stopped yelling at her and now ignored her, which she was happy about. Maybe if she was extra good, her Daddy and Mummy would finally come and take her away from this scary man.

The news ended and music began again, but no mention was made of a child's kidnapping. Grinning with his good fortune, Stockman realized he had time on his side. The old bat he had pushed off the road was most likely dead and was no threat to him. Jane was either dead, or if he was indeed alive, would soon be mourning the death of his second daughter. A feeling of omnipotence flowed through Stockman. He held the fate of so many people in his hands and it felt so good! A smile creased his face as he reached for a cigarette to enjoy before he finally turned the small car towards the nastier end of Austin. Where he was going, everyone kept to themselves. Most of the denizens of the motel he drove towards were either on the run from the police themselves, or wanted to be left alone. Whatever he did, no one would care or take notice. It was as if all of them were invisible to each other.

Smuggling KiKi into his room would be easy if he stashed her inside a duffel bag or under a blanket. Getting her back out would be just as easy. He could do whatever he wanted to the child for as long as he wanted if he just stayed off everyone's radar. He'd have to lose the little red car, pity. But he could always find another one and get away in it before anyone was the wiser. Once Anika was dead, it wouldn't matter when her body was discovered. Just thinking about killing her and finding an elaborate way to display her body to be discovered by her mother, made him almost aroused with excitement. Killing was becoming more than a way to exact retribution against those who wronged him. The very act of murder and the associated dramatic display of the corpse was a sexual stimulant for him now, a turn on, the final act almost orgasmic. His flair for the dramatic was coming into play again. He had taken care in the way he displayed the bodies of his previous murder victims in public places in and around Markdale, enjoyed the shocked response by the media. Killing Anika Jane presented him with a delicious opportunity to do something equally theatrical. Murdering the child of an FBI agent would be his highest achievement, the next logical step in his mastery over everyone. Then, he'd simply disappear. While the Feds were scrambling to find Kiki's killer, he would be enjoying the high life in Bermuda, living like a king!

(FBI- Austin Texas)

After Teresa called, Cho hastily assembled as many agents as he could pull from the field and the office, plus he notified the local police forces in and around Austin. If Jane was correct and Stockman planned to drown Anika, how on earth would they find him before he killed the child? Covering every body of water was going to be an impossibility as Austin and the counties around it were littered with small lakes, ponds, creeks, and river basins. A logistical nightmare presented itself to Cho and he feared he might not save his Godchild. Where to look for that bastard Stockman? As Wylie and two other agents scoured the CCTV footage of the little red car approaching the school and the activities of the stolen beige car, they hoped to construct a timeline of Stockman's movements, all leading to the place he had been staying. It was too much to hope that he would return to the same hotel or motel that he had used before taking Anika, but they had to leave no stone unturned. Every agent prayed Stockman would make just one stupid mistake. That's all it would take to bring this monster down.

(Austin General Hospital)

The nurse and doctor lingered in Jane's room after Teresa left, until they were satisfied their patient was calm enough to be left alone. As for Patrick, he was barely able to contain his panic that Anika might already be dead. For the sake of being left alone to think, he pretended to be coping well, yawned and curled up as if to take a nap. Once he was left to his own devices, Jane carefully sat up and ran over everything that had happened to him since Stockman kidnapped him at the Psychiatric Home.

Stockman was a man of his word. If he promised to do something evil, he did it. If he wanted to drive you crazy with drugs, with his medical training, he knew how to do it quickly and efficiently. If he wanted you to disappear, you disappeared in some remote place that he knew well. The cement factory was slated for demolition, but not for years yet, so it was largely forgotten and ignored. That's why he chose that spot to dispose of David and Patrick. The pond where he drowned Lynn Michaels and dumped Jane's car was also off the beaten track, known only to locals. He liked to visit places in plain sight but ignored for their boring normality. That was a clue. Jane was sure that Stockman's modus operandi would lead to his capture. So far, Stockman's only mistake was not killing Jane and David right away and making sure they were dead. If he planned to drown someone, he did, with ruthless precision. Lynn Michaels was proof of that.

Jane tried to consider all the places that might appeal to Stockman as the perfect location to take Anika. There was Lake Travis, Ladybird Lake, Hamilton Pool Preserve, Canyon Lake...the list went on and on. Patrick knew Cho didn't have enough agents to cover every possible venue, leaving waterways too numerous to count available to Stockman. As the enormity of the challenge of stopping Stockman in time became clear, a migraine pounced on Patrick, something he almost never had to suffer, unlike Teresa. Putting his head back to rest and ponder his dilemma, Patrick closed his eyes to concentrate on the few clues Stockman had left behind. At some point, Jane slipped out of musing and into an uneasy sleep, returning to a dream filled landscape of nightmarish visions. All of his unconscious thoughts turned time and again to Anika and Mark Stockman. Once again he could see long grass, some bull rushes and slippery rocks.

The smell of algae and water was strong, as was the sound of birds singing close by the water. If not for his desperation to find his daughter, this would seem an idyllic dream, but it only portended death. Patrick could see the water shimmering in the distance, surrounded by grassy shores. It was very quiet. There were no boaters in the water or kids running through the sparse sand to play along the water's edge. Straining to see if he knew this place, Patrick's mind replayed the scene over and over again, driving him to despair. It was all so generic, water...reeds...birds...long grass...it could be anywhere and nowhere close. Somehow though, it felt familiar. As he struggled to make sense of it sweat poured off his forehead and Patrick finally woke up in a anxious jolt. There was a clue there, but he wasn't seeing it.

What did all this mean? This recurring dream wouldn't let him rest, nagged at him, hounded him into exhaustion. Yes, Stockman said he'd drown Anika after Jane died, drown her for spite, for pleasure, for power. Patrick absolutely believed Stockman would do what he promised. Idle threats didn't fit his profile. Jane felt that he should have figured out where Stockman would go with KiKi by now, felt he had all the information he needed but it was somehow not fitting into the puzzle before him. If he didn't come up with the answer soon, everyone's efforts would all be for nothing.

(Waterloo Motel - 10 miles outside Austin)

Stockman sat parked on the side of the road, eyeing the dilapidated old motel for signs of police activity. There were only two cars parked outside rented rooms, with the remaining six spaces empty. The forlorn building itself had needed a good coat of paint at least 20 years ago, but had never been given a facelift. The entire place looked like it had been lifted out of an old 1960's movie about drifters, hookers and serial killers. That last thought made Stockman laugh. Maybe this was exactly the place he needed to spend the night, until he could dig up one tiny bit of information he needed to finish his current project.

Anika was fast asleep in the back seat of the car. She was exhausted from crying and being so afraid of this strange man who had separated her from her beloved Benny. Mummy and Daddy hadn't come for her after all, not even when she was very very good and stopped crying. Did they forget about her? Stockman turned the ignition and drove slowly over into the parking lot and found a spot 20 feet from the front office. Throwing a blanket over KiKi while she dozed, he got out and locked the car doors, then walked into the small front office to rent a room for the night, cash. Five minutes later he jogged over to the car and pulled out, driving to the last parking spot on the lot, far away from the other tenants. He quickly unlocked the motel door then ran back for the child. As she slept he unfastened the seat belt and carried her inside the room, still wrapped up in the blanket. As far as he knew, no one had seen him move in with his small companion.

Once KiKi was placed on the bed, Stockman ran back to the office to use the computer that the management let the motel guests use. He sat down and began his search, a gleam in his eye now that he had determined the perfect way to kill little Anika. The search wasn't easy, as the person involved was living as quietly as possible, but a few hints lingered on social media and various news posts from the last few years. A few random photos, a comment here and there on Facebook and Instagram, bits and pieces of commentary, all pointed to a place Stockman knew nothing about. Austin was a beautiful place, an artist's haven, a musician's inspiration and a nature lover's paradise. If he was looking for the perfect location to drown a little girl, Austin was the perfect place. As his fingers flew over the keyboard, Stockman employed every search trick he could muster to dig down and uncover the information he desired. After more than an hour, during which the manager of the motel cast a resentful eye towards him for taking so much time online, Stockman found what he was looking for. There, on the screen, he found it, the perfect place to take Kiki that would shock and surprise law enforcement for years to come.

(Hill Country, Austin Texas)

Benita was halfway up the canyon wall. She knew she had only a bit more time left before the nerve endings in her broken wrist began to scream for pain relief. For now, she had a few golden minutes of numbness still available to her before her broken bones slowed her down. Inch by inch, she made her way upwards, carefully placing her sneakered feet into holes in the rocky dirt, grasping the few handholds she could find along the way as the road above came more and more into view. A car or two had passed with the drivers unaware of the drama unfolding just below the surface of the road. If Benita could get a little higher up, she would become visible to the next car or truck that came along this lonely country road. When she had gone at least 12 or 13 feet up the hill, a pickup approached, going slowly due to the heavy load of furniture in the back. A young man and his wife eased down the road, taking their time as they moved their possessions into a new apartment just outside the city. As they came around a bend in the road, Marissa, the young woman, stared with bored eyes out of her side window, seeing an unending landscape of hardscrabble shrubbery and cacti. Nothing new jumped out at her and she was ready to put her head back to nap until they finally reached their destination. As she reached over to close her window and turn down the air conditioner, she saw a bright flash of colour amongst the dark greens and dull browns of the parched canyon walls. A bright yellow piece of something moved and beckoned her to lean forward and stare over the edge of the bluff's edge.

"Hey honey, slow down for a sec" Marissa said as she lowered her window to lean out. "There's something out there" she mumbled. Probably a wind blown shopping bag or an old broken umbrella.

Her husband Miguel slowed the truck to a stop in curiosity and waited to see what his wife was talking about. As Marissa looked on in surprise, another flash of bright yellow moved and then a bloody hand appeared, clutching a handful of long scrubby grass.

"Miguel! There's someone down there!" Marissa shouted, her hand already on the door handle as she started to exit the truck. Marissa ran over to the edge of the road and looked down, straight into the surprised eyes of an older woman desperately trying to climb back up to the road. She was bloodied and battered and very afraid.

"Hey! Stay put! We're coming to get you!" the young woman called, worried the climber might fall once again.

"Honey, come on over here!" the girl shouted, waving at her husband. As soon as he saw the plight of Benita, he ran back to the truck and got a rope out from the utility box and tied it to the front end of his truck. Then he ran back to the bluff and started to descend with the rope tied around his waist. Benita held on tightly, not daring to move now that help was so close.

"Thank you! Thank you both!" she cried as the first shards of pain raced through her wrist and arm. In another fifteen minutes, she wouldn't have been able to go on.

Miguel rappelled down to Benita and put his arm around her, holding her close as he yelled for his wife to slowly back the truck up. As she did, Miguel and Benny slowly were pulled up the hill. When they reached the top, Marissa parked the truck and ran over to the distressed older woman.

"Are you alright? What happened? Did you fall?" the questions came at Benny, but all she wanted to do was get up and go to the police.

"I was pushed down there by a man who kidnapped a little girl named Anika. I think he might kill her! Take me to the police please!" she told them.

"Oh God! OK, let us get you up and into the truck and then we'll call the police. Don't you worry Ma'am, we'll get you some help" Miguel assured Benny.

"Hurry, please hurry!" she cried as her arm began to scream in a jangle of broken bones and torn ligaments. Marissa put her arm around Benny and hugged her close as the little truck raced down the narrow road towards help. Miguel picked up his cell phone and handed it to Marissa, keeping his eye on the road while she dialed 911. Within minutes, the police had been informed of Benita's rescue, setting in motion a whole new wave of activity. When it finally reached the bullpen at the FBI, it was the best news Cho had heard all afternoon.


	31. Cat and Mouse

Sorry I haven't replied to the most recent reviews. Been very busy but here's the next chapter to keep you going. Enjoy.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 31

Cat and Mouse

Benita lay back supported by young Marissa, finally giving in to her pain and fear. The broken bones in her wrist and nose were sending screaming messages to her brain that all was not well and fix it dammit! Her entire body felt like it had been through a rock crusher, but aside from some broken bones and lacerations, Benny would be fine, physically at least. Until Anika was back in the arms of her family Benita would not be able to rest easy. Miguel drove straight past his new apartment and kept going, heading for Austin General Hospital. As Marissa held onto the shaking older woman, her cell phone rang sharply, jolting her out of her daydreams.

"Hello?"

"Is this Marissa Montez?"

"Yes. Who's this?"

"Ma'am, I'm Senior Agent Kimball Cho with the Austin FBI. Thank you for helping Benita today. We need to speak to her as soon as possible. Are you at a hospital yet?"

Marissa was stunned that someone from the FBI had called her, but she answered right away.

"No Sir, not yet. We were heading for Austin General. Should we go somewhere else?"

"Austin General is fine. I'll meet you there in the Emergency Department and clear the way for Benita to be seen by a doctor immediately. May I speak to her please?"

"Yes Sir" Marissa said nervously. Whoa! An FBI agent had called her! Wow!

Marissa turned to Benita and told her an FBI agent wanted to speak to her, still surprised herself that someone that important would call her.

"Ma'am? We'll be at the hospital soon and an FBI Agent wants to speak to you OK?"

Benita opened her eyes and smiled, beaming at Marissa. She didn't seem to be upset or nervous at all about being interviewed by the FBI!

"Did the agent tell you his name? Did he say he was Kimball Cho?" she asked hopefully.

Now Marissa was completely shocked. How did this injured woman know the agent's name? Who were these people?

"Well...yes… his name is Cho. Do you know him?"

Benny nodded and smiled at Miguel and Marissa, feeling like maybe Anika might just get rescued now after all.

Taking the cell phone from the young woman, Benita spoke to Cho with hope. Did he have good news already?

"Agent Cho? Hi, it's Benita."

"Good to hear your voice. How are you?" he asked.

"Not too bad considering...a few broken bones, but I'm just grateful to be alive Mr. Cho."

"So are we. Do you know who kidnapped you and Anika Jane? Did you catch his name? Did he indicate where he might be taking Kiki?" Cho asked, knowing full well it was a long shot that Stockman had given his name or anything else away.

Benita shook her head as she listened to Cho. "No, I have no idea who he is and where he wanted to take her. Anika is terrified!"

"Was Anika well when you last saw her?"

"Yes sir, alive and mad as hell that the man didn't take her home to see her parents. That is one feisty little girl" Benita said with pride.

"When you get to the hospital I'll show you some photos of the man we think took you and Anika. Then I'll leave you alone until the doctor is finished with you. Stay strong Benita" he said before hanging up.

Marissa took back her phone with a million questions running through her inquisitive mind.

"You know that Agent?"

"Oh yes I know Mr. Cho. He's the Godfather of the child that was kidnapped with me. He's best friends with her parents and loves KiKi as much as we all do. Thank goodness he's going to be there when we arrive!" she sighed with relief.

"Miguel, can we hurry a bit?" Marissa asked, thoroughly confused by the crazy events of their afternoon out in Hill Country.

Miguel nodded and sped up, the hospital only ten minutes away now.

(FBI Austin)

Wylie and his team of assistants were scanning multiple screens showing traffic in and around Austin, looking for that one small red car that would tell them where Stockman was going with Anika. They had already traced his stolen beige car back to the motel he first stayed at and agents were speaking with the staff there to see if anyone knew what Stockman was up to. It was a long shot but they couldn't risk missing any eye witness accounts of Stockman's activities since he arrived in Austin. Empty coffee cups and snack packages littered the table where Wylie and his team stared like zombies at the never-ending flow of traffic on the small screens. Sure he was going blind from eye strain, Wylie didn't dare look away in case he missed seeing the red car in a split second of inattentiveness.

"Got one!" a young woman shouted, pointing with excitement at her screen. Zooming in on the license plate she tried to make out the numbers and letters, hoping to find a match with Benita's car. Wylie smiled at the possibility that the agent had found something useful, but until they got a perfect match, he and the other agents didn't dare to get up and see for themselves. They kept their eyes on their own screens. The vehicle wasn't the red car they wanted.

"Ahhh... guys...I've got him!" Wylie shouted, staring at the small red car as it drove down a back street in Austin in real time. The license plate was clearly visible and a match to Benita's stolen car. All of the other agents converged on Wylie and stared over his shoulder to see for themselves. As Wylie called through to Cho with the news and location of the red car and their suspect, the screen showed Stockman ditching the car and walking away. He was in search of another car to steal, further complicating matters for the FBI. If they lost sight of Stockman now, they would have no idea what kind of car he was travelling in with Anika Jane.

"For God's sake don't lose him!" someone yelled as everyone returned to their screens and followed Stockman on CCTV cameras as he ran down the street. Cho was on his way to the hospital when he got the call from Wylie.

"Good work! While the rest of the team stay on Stockman, I want you to trace Benita's car backwards now, see where Stockman has been recently. He has Anika stashed somewhere, unless…" he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud. Unless Anika was already dead and Stockman was free to escape in an unknown car. "Just find out where he's been today!" Cho barked, frustrated with his inability to catch the bastard.

"Yessir!" Wylie answered, hanging up and switching to another program on his computer. Now that they knew which car to focus on, it wouldn't be that difficult to go back in time to track Stockman's progress through the city today. They didn't have time to lose. Anika could well be dead, or innocently waiting for someone to come and find her. Either way, her time was limited and sooner or later, Stockman would make good on his threat to drown her. Teresa was out in the city with a team of agents, searching all the usual haunts of men like Stockman, hoping someone had seen something, heard something, anything to open the floodgates of information that would lead to his arrest.

(Austin General Hospital)

It was getting late in the afternoon and Jane was going crazy with worry about Anika. Hampered by his general weakness, pain and the annoying drains going into his wound, he couldn't pull a runner and get out to search for his daugher himself. The inability to do anything was making him agitated. The extra dose of antibiotics was working well to beat back his infection and he could see for himself that the liquid being caught up in the bag hanging off the side of his bed was much clearer than it had been even this morning. At this rate he hoped he would be allowed to go home by morning. Until then, the only weapon he had was his mind. He had to stay calm and think.

Back in Blanchard County, Stockman had used his intimate knowledge of the area around Blanchard and Markdale to his advantage, choosing advantageous, out of the way places to hide Jane's car and Lynn's body in the pond far outside town. Only locals knew about that place. The same applied to his choice of the cement factory in Blanchard County, a great place to kill two men and leave their bodies to rot for years before their discovery in the final phase of corporate redevelopment. Austin however, was not familiar to Stockman. Here, he was a fish out of water. He didn't know the odd little places in and around Austin to do away with Anika without being seen by someone. No matter where he went, no matter how large or small the body of water, someone would see him with a little girl and find it suspicious. No, Stockman was at a distinct disadvantage now, and that could lead to his making a stupid mistake. Jane had to believe that ultimately Stockman's oversized ego would compel him to do something reckless and rash. That would be his downfall.

The FBI had to use that to _their_ advantage.

(FBI Austin)

While the other young agents tried their best to keep track of Stockman, it was getting more and more difficult to catch him on CCTV cameras. As he dodged in and out of back streets, keeping in the shadows, they'd lose him in areas not covered by surveillance cameras, then he'd reappear again, on his mission to steal a car. Close behind, the police and FBI were closing in on him as he ran through the sleazier part of Austin, unaware that his every move was being recorded. As he ducked into a parking garage, the team lost sight of him just as police cars converged on the neighbourhood. As officers fanned out searching for their man, Stockman was on the lower level of the garage, already in a car and driving away. The young agents were screaming with frustration as the CCTV camera was not switched on at the exit of the garage. Some idiot had either turned it off or it wasn't working. Either way their man was getting away in an unknown car and there was nothing they or the cops could do to stop him. As the locals and the Feds were swarming around the parking garage, Stockman had already made his way out without being seen, and drove into an alleyway away from prying eyes and blue uniforms. After emerging through a parking lot on the other side, Stockman blended in with city workers leaving their offices at the end of the afternoon. His was just one more car clogging the congested roads leading out of the city centre. Now the FBI had nothing to go on.

Stockman was gone.

Wylie had to ignore the shouts of frustration from his team mates as he doubled down on his newest assignment from Cho. If Stockman did have Anika stashed away somewhere, maybe Wylie could rewind the CCTV footage and find the red car as it went about the city earlier today. Shouting at his team to do the same, they soon returned to their work stations and joined Wylie in backtracking Stockman's stolen red car. It was painstaking work but if they found out where he was hiding, they could surround him once he returned in his new car. It was a long shot, but it was the only thing they had to work with now.

Stockman drove the speed limit and passed through Austin in the late afternoon crush of traffic. As soon as he could, he left the main highway and doubled back towards the crappy motel where he had hidden Anika. As she slept he had put her into the closet with a pillow and blanket and prayed she'd stay quiet until he returned. All he needed was a kid screaming bloody murder while he was out. As he approached the motel, he looked for police cars or an ambulance but the parking lot was empty. He cautiously drove up to his motel door and parked, keeping an eye out for cops hiding close by. When no one appeared except a drunk who almost fell out of his doorway on the way to the ice machine, Stockman finally stepped out of his black sedan and quickly entered his room. All was still. He silently walked over to the closet and unlocked the door. Anika was curled up into a ball, sucking her thumb and cradling the blanket like a stuffed toy, looking for comfort.

Now that KiKi was no longer a concern, Stockman relaxed. He had some time to think about his next steps. The car was a plain black sedan, would blend in with traffic without attracting attention. Mission accomplished. He'd found out what he needed to know from the computer in the motel office, so that was another key goal accomplished. He desperately wanted to go out for beer and pizza, but that was impossible with KiKi sleeping in the closet. She had to wake up sooner or later and then all hell would break loose. No, he would have to leave here if he wanted to get some food. Looking around the room, shitty as it was, he regretted he couldn't stay the night. Too risky he realized. At least it hadn't cost much.

With a sigh, he made the decision to keep moving, disappearing into the worst part of the city until he could finally be rid of this miserable kid. He could just suffocate her here and now and leave her body in the closet until the next renter discovered her remains, but what was the fun in that? Where was the artistry? The drama? The showmanship? Anybody could kill a kid and just dump her. He had a bigger vision of glory and retribution and for that, he needed to await a brand new day. Mind made up, Stockman stood up and began to collect his few possessions, putting them into his new car. Time to move on. He didn't dare stay in one place too long so it was time to find a new hiding place until he could finally kill this little rugrat. He had paid for the night but had no intention of actually sleeping there. When everything was finally secured in the trunk of the car, he scooped Anika up in her blanket and put her onto the back seat of the car, covering her up with the blanket to keep her hidden. He left the key on his night table and drove off in a cloud of dust. By midnight he hoped to be in a new hiding place for one last night in America, then, he'd be on his way to the Caribbean. He'd read all about the discovery of Anika's body in the papers on the island!


	32. Approaching Zero Hour

I managed another chapter during what's been a very busy week. I don't know about you but I'm looking forward to seeing the wedding tomorrow. Should be fun. Have a great weekend, and for all you Canadian's, have a great May 2-4 weekend!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 32

Approaching Zero Hour

(Austin General Hospital - 6 pm)

Jane lay fidgeting in his bed, restless, frustrated by his inability to leave this annoying place to hunt down his daughter's kidnapper. As his eyes scanned his bed and body, taking in the IV tubing, injection site, drains stitched into his skin and his thin hospital gown, a sense of outrage boiled within him. Stockman did this to him, for no other reason than the enjoyment of exerting power and cruelty against his perceived foes. Which was the dominant characteristic in Stockman's personality, cruelty or abuse of power? Jane could guess. Powerful people were not necessarily cruel, but cruel people always exhibited power and dominance over their supposed inferiors. So - cruelty won out. There would be no reasoning with Stockman should the police find him. He would never give up, never acquiesce to their demands to let KiKi go. He would rather die in the act of killing that little girl than give one scintilla of satisfaction to the police surrounding him should it come to a standoff.

As Jane ruminated on all this, he could barely keep from ripping out his IV line and pulling his drains free of his abdomen. He could handle the pain if it got Anika back to her mother's arms, but ruining the surgeon's work would only delay his homecoming, perhaps permanently. Shit, he was stuck in that bed!

There was one thing he could do to gain some independence. Jane reached for his buzzer and rang for a nurse. A few minutes later a young man entered his room, concerned that Jane might be feeling worse.

"Everything alright Mr. Jane?" he asked, quickly studying his patient to ascertain his condition.

"Just peachy. Isn't it about time you let me out of this bed to use the bathroom like a big boy?" Jane asked sarcastically, indicating the annoying catheter he was still hampered by.

"Oh, well, yes, it is time. We were just waiting until you asked to go to the washroom on your own. It's usually a good indication of progress. So, if you just can lie back, I'll have you rid of that in a minute" the man said kindly.

As usual, Jane was happy he'd complained. He was even more pleased that a male nurse had come to his rescue with this embarrassing situation. Just being so helpless was embarrassing enough.

"Deep breath!" the nurse commanded, and before Jane could respond, the annoying rubber tube was out.

"Better?"

"Much. Now can you help me get up and over to the bathroom?" Jane asked, already pushing his bedding away.

"Sure! Slowly…" the nurse advised him, lowering the side rail on the bed and grasping Jane's arm to guide him up to his feet.

A sharp pain lacerated through Jane's middle as he put his full weight on his feet, but once he was upright, he felt much better.

"So far, so good" he mumbled, slowly sliding his feet across the floor. The nurse pulled the IV pole along beside Jane.

"This is good!" the nurse remarked, taking this little trip as a good sign that his patient was indeed getting better.

It took a long time, but eventually Jane and his nurse reached the small bathroom and Jane closed the door for some privacy. He was elated at having walked this far. He intended to practise for the rest of the evening with the goal of persuading his doctor to let him finish his recuperation at home in the morning. Lying in a hospital bed was nowhere near as relaxing as being in his own bed back home, or better yet, reclining on his soft sofa by the fireplace with Teresa nearby. As he thought about that, he realized that it would never be his perfect sanctuary until Anika was home again with her family. His heart contracted with a pang of sadness as he imagined her cowering in fear somewhere in the company of strangers. He'd kill Stockman with his bare hands as soon as he had the chance.

(FBI Austin)

Tired of her fruitless search of Austin for Stockman, Teresa dropped by the bullpen to see what everyone else was working on to find her missing child. Then she'd go and see Jane before visiting hours ended at the hospital. As she stepped off the elevator, she saw Wylie and his team of computer geeks huddled over their laptops in the conference room, each one of them furiously scrolling through CCTV footage of traffic. Cho was out, at the hospital apparently. Teresa asked another agent what was going on at the hospital if it didn't concern Patrick.

"The babysitter was found by some people, out in the Hill Country. They phoned it in a short while ago. Agent Cho is meeting her there to question her" the agent said without emotion.

"Benny? She's alive!?" Teresa exclaimed in excitement. Why didn't anyone tell her? She quickly ran back to the elevator and furiously punched the buttons to get back downstairs to her car as quickly as possible. As she did she called Cho and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

"Cho here. What's up Teresa?" he said calmly.

"What's up? What the hell do you think? Benny is alive and no one thought to tell me?" she ranted as she jogged to her vehicle.

"Slow down….I only found out myself a short time ago and I needed to arrange to meet Benny and the couple who found her at the hospital. Meet me at Austin General. You were the next person I was going to call. Really" Cho said, understanding Teresa's frantic reaction.

"Ok...ok...sorry Cho...it's just…" she said as she sat down heavily in her SUV, suddenly very tired. "I'm just so worried and now this" she tried to explain, but Cho cut her off.

"It's fine. No one would blame you if you got angry at everything right now. But Benny is alive and can tell us what happened to Anika when Stockman took them. See you at Emergency" he said curtly, before hanging up.

Throwing her cellphone on the front seat, Teresa backed out and roared out of the parking lot, thrilled to see her treasured friend and nanny alive. She needed to get answers, so she turned on her siren and flashed her lights all the way into the city.

(Austin General Hospital)

Benita lay on a gurney waiting to be seen by a doctor when Cho knocked on her door.

"May I come in?" he asked politely.

Benny had an ice pack on her broken nose but until she was seen by a doctor, she couldn't be given any pain medication. From the expression on her face, Cho could see she was in extreme pain from her broken wrist.

"Come in Kimball" she said softly, trying not to jostle her nose or her arm. "I look a mess" she said with embarrassment. She was covered in dirt and dust, and scratched all over from her fall down the embankment.

"You look wonderful Benita. I can't tell you how happy I am that you survived Mark Stockman. Few people do."

"Thank you. Now, I guess you need information?" she asked, pointing to a chair nearby.

"Yes Ma'am" he said, pulling up the chair closer to her bed. "I won't take too long seeing as how you aren't feeling very well."

"Take as long as you need. We need to get that baby home again" Benny said with determination.

"Can you tell me what happened once you stepped outside the school, with as much detail as possible?" he asked, his pen and paper at the ready.

Benita lay back and carefully described how Stockman had pretended to fall, and how she had helped him up, leading to her kidnapping with Anika. She had a wonderful memory and was able to recreate the scene verbally, painting a clear picture of the fear she and Anika felt at the point of Stockman's gun. She continued until the story ended with her being tossed over the edge of the road into the valley below. Cho would interview the Montez couple later, but what Benny told him was very useful. As he was finishing up his interview, Teresa ran into the room, a look of horror and relief etched into her pale face.

"Oh Benny! On God what you've been through!" she said, enveloping the woman in a hug.

"Owww!" Benny moaned as Teresa bumped her broken arm.

"Sorry! Oh God I'm sorry!"

"S'OK. It's so good to see you Teresa. How's Patrick holding up?"

Teresa smiled at Benny then turned to hug Cho in relief and as an apology for being so rude with him.

"Patrick is getting better, hour by hour. I expect by now he is bugging people to let him go home. As soon as the doctor gives us the green light, I'll do just that. But until Anika is found, he won't really heal, not all the way."

Teresa didn't have to explain what she meant. Benny knew the sad history behind the Jane family and knew that the loss of another child would indeed be the end of Patrick.

"We'll get her back Teresa. We will. I've been praying non-stop ever since that evil man took her. I think God is tired of my voice by now" Benita smiled, holding Teresa's hand.

"It that's true, He's really sick of mine too" Teresa smiled. Just then the door opened and a doctor came in to see Benita.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Balina. I understand you had quite a nasty fall today" he said as he began to examine Benita carefully.

"We'll let you have some privacy" Cho said as he and Teresa headed for the door.

"I'll be right outside" Teresa added.

"OK, thanks" Benny said before the doctor touched her swollen nose and got a sharp yelp out of her.

Teresa leaned against the wall once she and Cho were in the hallway.

"What now?" she asked.

"I'll speak to the Montez couple, send a forensic team out to the spot where Stockman threw Benny over the embankment. Then I'll see how far Wylie and his team have gotten with backtracking Stockman's red car. As soon as we get that information, we can interview any witnesses on site and see if they know where he might be going next. As for you, stay with Benny and Patrick. I think they both need to see a friendly face just about now" Cho said kindly. Teresa couldn't do anything more to find Stockman, but she could help her husband and her friend Benita right here tonight.

"Sounds good. Please, if anything shakes out…"

"I'll tell you immediately. Try to get some rest Teresa. Tomorrow will be a big day if Jane comes home" Cho advised her. What was left unspoken was whether or not Anika would be part of that homecoming.


	33. Almost, Almost

Well the Royal wedding was wonderful, I wrote 4 more chapters and am very excited about what is coming soon. So, here we go again! Reviews, as always, are very welcome.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 33

Almost, Almost

Teresa waited outside Benita's examining room until the doctor left to arrange x-rays on her arm and face, then she stepped back inside and said her goodbyes. Patrick needed to know about Benita as it would give him some hope that perhaps, now, his precious child would be found.

"I'll be upstairs with Patrick. I can check later to see if you're admitted or if they let you go home tonight. Do you have someone who can stay with you until you're feeling better?" Teresa asked her nanny with concern.

"I'll be fine. My neighbour Sylvia will stay with me whenever I get home. Go and see your husband Teresa. Tell him I said hello and to be strong" Benita tried to smile, but her pain levels were off the chart now. As soon as the x-rays were complete, the doctor had promised her she'd be given something strong for the pain. Teresa hugged her and then slipped out the door, in a hurry to get to Patrick.

(Austin - 7 pm)

Anika was hungry, thirsty and tired. Crying had worn her out but fear had worn her down. She wanted to eat something but was afraid to talk to the bad man. Instead she sucked her thumb like a lifesaver and hoped he would give her a drink of milk at the least. Being so young, her needs were basic - food, water, love, security. At the moment, all of those things were nowhere to be found. Stockman was hungry too and needed a good strong drink. The sooner he found secure shelter away from prying eyes, the sooner he could get something to eat for himself and this kid. Food would keep her quiet and maybe lull her to sleep. He only had to put up with her until morning, then he'd be on his way. As he drove the back streets of Austin, and out of the city proper, he scanned the side of the road for any place disreputable enough to suit his needs.

Beyond an old strip mall, a tired looking gas station, a burger joint and a Mexican restaurant, he found what he was looking for. An ancient one story building far off the road with a broken sign reading "Texican Motel" beckoned only the most desperate of travellers to come and stay for the night. There was only one car in the parking lot, either from a solitary guest, or perhaps it belonged to the night manager. Either way, Stockman would be ensured the privacy he craved. He drove past the burger place with desire, then planned to come back and load up on food to devour later that night. His dusty black car pulled into the parking lot and he left it around the corner from the office, out of sight from the busy road. He put a tight seatbelt around Anika.

"You stay here and don't make a sound? Got it? If you make a noise, I will give you a spanking you won't ever forget!" he breathed in her frightened face. She nodded silently and curled up into a tight ball as he draped the smelly blanket over her cowering body. Once she was hidden, Stockman jogged over to the office to book a room for the night. Cash was exchanged and he took his key back to the car. The room was on the other side of the building, away from the road, so no one would see his black car from the highway. As night fell, he disappeared from the city once again. Anika lay still, terrified of Stockman. When the car stopped, he reached in and scooped her up in the blanket, keeping a tight grip on her shaking form. Once inside the room, he threw her on the bed and then went into the bathroom. Anika had to pee as well, and was desperate to do it in the big girl toilet, like she had been taught. As soon as Stockman opened the door, she darted into the scuzzy bathroom and pulled down her panties to relieve herself on the old toilet. Stockman ignored her, as he had earlier in the day. He had many vices, but pedophilia was not one of them. He had no interest in watching her go through the motions of peeing, instead, he lit a cigarette and waited until she came out again.

"I want you to sit on the bed and be a good girl for me. I'll turn on the TV and you watch it while I go and get us some supper, OK? Can you do that and not scream?" he said, standing menacingly over her.

"'Kay…" she mumbled, scrambling up onto the bed, her back against the wall.

Stockman turned on the old TV and found a children's cartoon show, then he gave her one last glare before he left the room. Anika watched him go with a combination of relief and worry. Would he bring food for her? What if he never came back and she was stuck here in this strange place? Would Mummy and Daddy come and get her? The world was a very confusing place for her now, so different from what it had been yesterday. As she got more and more drawn in by the colourful characters on the TV show, she began to relax, thumb firmly in place in her mouth, as she gripped the bedsheets between her fingers. She was hungry.

Stockman drove down the road to the burger joint and ordered a lot of food for himself, a very small plain burger for Anika, a cardboard container of milk for her, and beer for himself. That would have to do, until he was free of her in the morning. Dead kids can't eat, after all.

(Austin General Hospital)

Visiting hours were in full swing when Teresa knocked on Jane's door. A more upbeat voice greeted her and when she stepped inside, she was surprised to see Patrick standing beside his bed with a triumphant expression on his face.

"Patrick! Wow - you're up!" she said in happy amazement. She quickly closed the space between them and embraced him in her arms. His arms wrapped around her small body in return, her hair smelling like heaven in his face. He had needed this, her body close to his. Until Anika was found, he needed her to anchor him to this earth, to this life. Without his girls, there was no reason to go on.

"I wanted to surprise you" he whispered. "Been practicing for a while now, but I'm a bit worn out" he admitted.

"It was a great surprise, but let me help you back into bed. You shouldn't overdo it" she said as she guided him back to his bed. Once he was comfortably settled, she sat beside him, close to his body, and leaned in to place a tender kiss on his lips.

"I have a surprise for you too" she said softly.

"Anika?" he immediately assumed.

Teresa's expression fell. Damn...she had let him think the kidnapping had ended.

"No...sorry, not that, not yet anyway."

His hopeful smile faded as he leaned back, waiting to hear what else could possibly be considered good news.

"Benita has been found, alive Patrick. She's downstairs getting treatment for broken bones right now" she explained. "Stockman tried to kill her but he failed."

This made Patrick smile, even though it still meant that Anika was a captive of that madman.

"Where, how?"

"He took them from the school and drove out into the Hill Country around Lake Austin. He got off the main road and took Benny's car up onto a country road overlooking a canyon. Once he got far enough out, he ordered her out of the car and pushed her down the hill. I'm not sure how long she lay there, but she managed to climb halfway back up the hill towards the road when a young couple saw her and brought her here."

"I need to talk to her as soon as possible, see if I can help her remember something more to lead us to KiKi!" Jane said, his mind racing with hope that she knew more than what she'd told Cho and Teresa.

"She's hurting pretty badly right now Patrick, but if the doctor clears her, maybe we can make that happen. She might even be in surgery to fix her arm right now. I'll have to ask and let you know."

Teresa wanted Benny to tell them something useful too, but she was sure that anything that could bring KiKi home had already been revealed. She saw the desperate hope in Jane's eyes and hated to be the one to dampen his spirits, but he had to understand that Stockman's only mistake so far was in not making sure Benita was dead. As for Anika, he had successfully made her disappear into thin air.

Jane held Teresa's hand and sighed deeply with disappointment. He needed to get the hell out of there!

(Texican Motel)

Stockman unlocked the door and stomped inside, startling Anika out of her stupor. She had dozed off while watching a mindless kiddie show. Now that the scary man was back, she snapped to watchful alertness. The smell of food drew her attention as she spied paper bags in his hands, promising something to eat.

"Get off the bed and sit on the floor KiKi" Stockman barked. "I don't want crumbs and milk all over my bed!"

The child scampered down quickly and sat cross legged on the filthy rug, waiting to see what he had found for her to eat. Stockman threw a small bag at her and then opened a container of milk. He placed it on the floor beside her and then walked away to enjoy his much bigger meal. Anika reached into the bag and pulled out a small hamburger with ketchup and pickles. Scrunching up her nose, she picked the pickles off her meat patty and threw them back into the bag, then she took a huge bite out of her now acceptable burger. While not her favourite food, which was her Daddy's pancakes, she was so hungry she was content with this lukewarm burger. When she was half done she paused and picked up her milk, drinking deeply, the cool creaminess making her content. Soon she was finished her meal and crawled back to lean against the wall, afraid to get on the bed again. She studied Stockman with guarded eyes, jealously watching the golden fries go into his mouth. She loved french fries but wouldn't dare ask for one. Instead she drew her knees up and stuck her thumb back into her mouth, waiting to see what the strange man would do next.

Stockman ignored the child while he sat on the side of the bed drinking his beer and scarfing down his food. He turned on the local news to see if there was any mention of the kidnapping and the death of the babysitter. A newsreader began his telecast with the kidnapping as his lead story. A photo of Stockman was shown with a variety of haircuts and facial hair, with hats and without. Clearly they were trying to determine what he looked like now as he had established his ability to disguise himself. Benita was mentioned, but only in passing as being a victim of murder. So...she had died...good. One less witness. Anika's photo was shown prominently, with a plea for the public to contact the police if either Stockman or Anika was spotted. Stockman scoffed at the police's lame attempt to find him. Clearly he was smarter than all of them, as he had managed to steal two cars and book rooms in two motels without detection. As always, his ego outstripped his intelligence. When he finished his last fry and screwed up the empty burger bag, he turned his gaze towards the frightened child on the floor. Without a word he opened the narrow closet and pulled out a well worn quilt. Spreading it out on the floor, he grabbed a thin pillow and threw it down at the end of the quilt.

"Lie down there and go to sleep!" he ordered the child.

When Anika didn't get up fast enough, Stockman paced over to her and dragged her up by one thin arm and threw her down onto the quilt. She burst into tears, hurt and scared, terrified by his temper.

"I want my Mummy!" she wailed, sobbing fat tears into the dirty material.

"You shut up right this minute or else!" Stockman shouted, raising his hand over his head threateningly. "Shut up!"

Anika backed away from him and gulped repeatedly, trying to get herself under control. As her sobs decreased, he pointed to the floor, simmering in anger. If anyone had walked by and heard her….

KiKi quickly lay down and curled up tightly. Stockman pulled the quilt over her shaking body and leaned down into her tear stained face.

"You don't move until I say so. Stay there and go to sleep!"

KiKi's wide eyes blinked back tears as she nodded in acquiescence. Whatever this terrible man wanted, she'd do. She stifled her emotions and turned her back to Stockman. In time, she fell into a restless sleep, seeing scary grownups doing scary things. Her Daddy wasn't the only one suffering nightmares thanks to Mark Stockman.

(Austin General Hospital)

Benita got the good news that she didn't need surgery. Her 'dinner fork fracture' could be set manually and would be put into a fibreglass cast before the night was over. As surgery had been ruled out, she finally was allowed to take some strong pain killers, and soon relief flooded through her broken arm and nose. Exhaustion threatened to knock her out. Because of her age and general battered condition, she was admitted overnight to be watched for any complications. As per his orders, Cho was informed of her injuries and current situation. He still had not been able to visit Jane and he might now be able to until he had Anika back in his arms. A quick call to Teresa at Jane's bedside filled her in on the latest news about Benny.

"Can I speak to Patrick?" Cho asked, feeling so bad that he had not seen him in person.

"Sure, one minute" Teresa said, handing the phone over to her husband.

"Cho?"

"Hi Patrick. How are you feeling now?"

"Better. I've been up and walking around a fair bit and hope to go home in the morning if the infection has receded enough. What's happening out there? Any news about Anika?"

Cho knew this was coming, but he felt terrible and ineffectual having to say they were no further ahead than they had been earlier this afternoon.

"Wylie is tracking Benita's red car and once we know where Stockman stayed last night, we might catch a break talking to eye witnesses. Other than that, we only know what Benita told us. Sorry Jane."

"Me too...thanks Cho" Jane said, defeated and heartsick. He handed the phone back to Teresa and rolled over onto his good side, closing in on himself, physically protecting his core, unconsciously making himself as small as possible. Teresa watched him with alarm. If they didn't find Anika alive, soon, she feared she would lose Jane to his demons. This time, he might not be able to come back to her.

Patrick lay with his back to Teresa, not to ignore her, but to come to grips with the loss of hope. Hope is what got him out of bed this afternoon. Hope is what stopped him from screaming obscenities when the nursing staff seemed too damned cheerful. Hope, carefully weighed and measured out in sparing quantities, was what was going to get him home in the company of his wife and daughter.

And hope was gone.

Cho was getting nowhere in his pursuit of that animal Stockman. What was that monster doing to sweet, trusting Anika? Was she already ruined, damaged beyond repair spiritually, emotionally, physically? Did he rape her? Photograph her to put her tiny body up on some heinous website visited by equally appalling low-lifes? Did he beat her when she cried, and Patrick knew she would cry. What toddler wouldn't in her circumstances? Was she bound and gagged, cold, hot, thirsty, hungry, wet? The endless possibilities of what Stockman could do to his perfect child was making Patrick nauseous. The more he let his mind dwell on the subject, the sicker he felt.

Teresa shook his shoulder, tried to get him to turn around and face her, but he stubbornly refused to play along.

"Patrick, please, look at me" she said softly. "Don't leave me. Don't go where I can't follow" she told him, seeing the faraway look in his eyes as she walked around the bed to force him to see her.

Patrick ducked his head down, pulling the sheets up until he was almost completely hidden.

Teresa studied him and, while knowing how much emotional pain he was in, she couldn't let him do this to himself, not again. He wasn't alone anymore like when Angela and Charlotte died. He had her, his wife, his second heart.

"She's not dead Patrick. If she was, I'd know it. I'd feel it and I don't feel it." she said urgently, pulling the sheet off his face. What she saw made her heart skip a beat. He wasn't shutting her out, he was hiding his face in shame.

He was crying.


	34. Breaking Point

Surprise! Another chapter is ready to go, so why wait? Thank you to the Guest reviewers and everyone else who took the time to make a comment. You made my day. Anyway, here we go!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 34

Breaking Point

Teresa's hand flew up to her mouth in shock. Patrick was weeping silently behind his white hospital sheet. Earlier today she had fainted when she learned that Anika had been kidnapped, and Jane had been strong for her. Now, the depth of his despair had finally revealed itself, and he was trying to hide it. A new ache filled her heart, seeing the man she loved so deeply finally reach his limit. His own kidnapping, his fight with hallucinogenic drugs, a stabbing, infection, pain, near death by strangulation, all followed by nightmares she could only guess at in their intensity, and then, the abduction of his precious child, it was all too much.

No wonder he wept. Now, she had to be his shelter, his pillar of strength.

"Oh God Jane! Please, don't cry! Anika will be with us soon. We have to believe that every minute, for as long as it takes. We're making progress, bit by bit. We know what Stockman's driving now. Someone will see him and call it in. Stockman has already made two mistakes, and soon he'll make another. Then we'll take him and bring Anika home" she said, more forcefully than she really felt. Jane kept his face turned away from her. He felt ashamed at his own weakness. Teresa didn't deserve this, she needed support too. And the vicious cycle of self-recrimination continued.

Jane's long index finger snaked up from under the sheet and wiped his eyes. He felt so sad, so impotent, and this wasn't helping Teresa, making her do all the emotional heavy work. Dammit he was letting her down too. He opened his eyes and stared at her, breathing as evenly as he could to calm himself down. He had to get a grip. What had she said? Mistakes?

"I'm sorry Teresa...it's just...we don't know anything and it's been so long…" he began. Teresa leaned in and held him close to her heart. It hadn't been long at all, but even a minute away from her family was too long for Anika to endure.

"I'll wait a hundred years if that's what it takes to bring her home."

Patrick pulled her head down and kissed her deeply, hungrily, gratefully. "Thank you. I need you."

"And I need you too. I need you to outsmart Stockman when he screws up."

Jane gazed at this strong woman and knew he needed to be there for her. What pain was she in that she was hiding from him? There was a limit to what she could handle too. It wasn't about him or her, it was about being ready if and when Anika was found. They had to provide a united front of strength and calm for her. There was no telling what Stockman was doing to KiKi in captivity, and she might very well need counselling herself when she returned.

"Sorry, moment of weakness" he mumbled, embarrassed but willing to own up to it.

He thought over what Teresa said. He needed to outsmart Stockman. For that, he needed to get the hell out of this hospital and return to his home, where he could finally relax and think without interruption. Mind made up, Jane rolled over and tried to sit up. Teresa raised the head of his bed up and this time, he didn't recoil in pain. He was indeed getting better. Reaching for her hand he patted the bed and indicated that he wanted her to sit next to him on the bed. As soon as she was comfortable, he turned to her and smiled grimly. He had heard her.

"Stockman made two mistakes so far? What are they?"

Teresa lay against his shoulder and gently stroked his arm, watching the golden hairs move back and forth with the the motion of her fingers.

"Stockman has no problem killing anyone who gets in his way. But he messed up with you and David Litchfield. He could easily have killed both of you back at the cement factory, but he got too full of himself, too sure of himself. David escaped and you got yourself across the compound to find a new hiding place. Stockman expected you both to die a slow and terrible death in the kiln while he left to start a new life. That was his first, ego-driven mistake."

"And the other?"

"The other mistake is the same one. He didn't learn much after allowing you and David to live. Today, he should have made sure Benny was dead, but he didn't, and she will live to give testimony against him. His ego is out of control, and because we know Anika was still alive early this afternoon, he's planning something dramatic, something that his ego tells him he must do to show how grand he is, how clever he is. That's his achilles heel. His ego is his weak spot. He's getting sloppy, and that's what's going to get him caught. We just have to be ready for him when that happens" she said firmly, not only trying to convince Patrick, but she needed to believe it herself. That was it, that was all there was, but it was going to have to be enough for both of them to hang onto until Stockman was in chains or dead.

(Texican Motel)

Stockman was on his third beer. Anika had fallen asleep and lay still on the floor. He studied her and stood up. Switching off the TV, he walked over to the old quilt and gazed down at her small body. He was tired of all this. He wanted to leave Texas once and for all, leave the U.S. and find a new life in the Caribbean, in a country with no extradition treaty with America. He'd travel around for a while, but ultimately settle in a land that could not return him to the death penalty awaiting him in Texas. He watched the child as she slept and considered ending her life right now, in this stinking room. Some underpaid cleaning lady could find Anika stuffed in the closet like an old suitcase, or he could take her out into the country, disposing of her like garbage. He got closer to her, watched her breathe, ran a finger across her jawline, then up the side of her neck to her ear. A small hand came up and swatted his hand away like it was an annoying fly.

Anika's neck was so small, so slight. It would take nothing to wrap his large hands around her slim throat and choke the life out of her while she slept. His duffel bag would easily hold her body when he checked out in the morning and then, well then he only had to throw the bag into a river or over a cliff for the vultures to find. Then it would finally be done and he could leave the State. It was so easy. But...

Sighing with regret, he stepped back towards the bathroom and closed the door. He couldn't do it. Couldn't strangle the small girl. Not because he was squeamish. Squeamish didn't describe him in the least. No, he needed to fulfil his promise to that shithead FBI Agent. A promise that his daughter would be drowned, and that is exactly what he intended to do, in a wonderful final act of revenge against Agent Jane. In the morning, after rush hour, when prying eyes were safely behind desks and computers, where they belonged, he'd venture out with Anika one last time and end her life according to the rules he lived by. It would be a glorious piece of theatre. Mind made up, he relieved himself in the grimy toilet then ran the shower. Tomorrow would begin with his greatest achievement yet.

(FBI - Austin Texas)

Wylie was toast. His eyes at least felt like they were twice their normal size and burning with strain. Until you tried to backtrack one small red car in an ocean of small red cars, you had no idea how difficult it was in a city as congested as Austin. His computer program was trying to capture as many letters and numbers on license plates on small red cars as possible, but so far it had been a waste of time. Shadows, dirt, old faded plates, obstructions, and missing plates were leading Wylie on time-wasting wild goose chases. To their credit, the team was still hard at it, fatigued and hungry, but they wouldn't stop until they had used every opportunity to find their man. Leaning forward on his elbows, Wylie drained his 6th cup of coffee and fended off the jitters as he scanned the screen once again. Another small red car appeared on his screen but from where the camera was positioned, the license plate wasn't visible. Not all cars in and around Austin had plates on the front and back of the vehicle. With only a plate on the front, it took too long to determine if the car that was on screen was the right one or just an innocent family car. Now the car turned a corner, facing another CCTV camera. The vehicle had travelled through the downtown core and into a scuzzy neighbourhood on the outskirts of town, populated by hotels, motels and boarding houses no respectable person would voluntarily spend time in.

There!

Was that a 3 or an 8?

The car passed a street lamp...it was an 8! Wylie's heart rate sped up as he quickly studied all of the digits on the plate, to see if it matched Benita's car. The compact car entered a lighting dead zone, so common in Austin with their strict no streetlight policy. Dammit where was it going? Wylie temporarily lost sight of the car, switching frames on his screen to find it again.

There! It turned off the more heavily travelled road and took a smaller side road, until it paused on the shoulder, waiting with the engine running. Wylie enlarged the screen and wrote down the license plate, comparing it to Benita's. It was a match. He almost fell out of his chair as he watched the car start up again and turn into the parking lot of the Waterloo Motel.

"Ahhh...guys! I've got him!" Wylie yelled to no one in particular.

"You sure?" a doubtful voice called back.

"Get Cho! I'm looking at Mark Stockman check into a motel right now! Get Cho!" Wylie shouted with excitement. He looked at the time stamp and realized where and when Stockman had gone to ground with Anika earlier that day.

A moment later Cho was beside Wylie's desk, leaning forward to see what his best young computer specialist had found.

"Where is he?"

"Waterloo Motel, just a few hours ago."

"Did you see Anika with Stockman?"

Wylie had only seen Stockman park his car, then get out to check in, then the car had driven to a parking spot at the end of the lot, out of view of the camera.

"No, sorry, but she could have been in the car when he paid for his room."

"What else did he do?"

Wylie began the tape again and after speeding it up, he and Cho watched as the little red car appeared in another film clip leaving the motel. Did Stockman have Anika in the car with him at that point?

"Does the red car come back Wylie?" Cho asked hopefully.

Wylie shook his head, no. "The car never comes back, but a new car came in later, a black sedan, a Honda. Parked down the line out of sight at the end of the lot. I have someone running the plates right now."

"Driver?"

"He never appears on screen. Whoever his is he just parked and went to his room. Could just be some random guy…"

Cho took a deep breath and made a decision.

"Wylie, come with me. We're going to the motel with a team of agents to see what Stockman left behind in the way of evidence. Gentlemen, continue with what you're doing. See what you can find to nail this guy!"

With murmured assents, the other computer geeks got back to their work with renewed energy, letting Wylie go with their boss.

Cho, Wylie and 2 other agents ran out of the bullpen to an FBI SUV in the parking lot, then sped away to the Waterloo Motel. It was too much to hope that Anika was still being held there under lock and key, but for now, any evidence leading to Stockman would be considered progress. As they drove towards the Waterloo Motel Wylie's cell phone rang.

"You got it? Good! Yeah that's perfect, thanks! I'll tell Agent Cho!"

Cho turned to look at Wylie. Something good had just happened.

"The plates on the black car belonged to the woman whose car was stolen out of the parking garage in Austin today. Now we know what Stockman's driving again!" he beamed.

Cho allowed himself a tiny smile of satisfaction. It was a small clue, a tiny break, but smaller breaks had led to the downfall of other evil men. Now a new search could begin.

A half hour later Cho and his agents were standing in the front office of the motel, flashing his badge at the bewildered night manager.

"Special Agent Kimball Cho, FBI. We're looking for this man." Cho held up a composite of Stockman based on Benita's description.

"Ahhh..I don't know…" the manager said, unwilling to be part of whatever was going on. He preferred to turn a blind eye to whatever nefarious deeds his guests were committing.

"Yes you do know. Show me your registration book. This man checked in here earlier today but didn't stay long. I need to see what name he used and the room he stayed in."

"I'd have to check with the day manager...see if that's alright…" the guy had the balls to say to Cho. Cho clenched his jaws with frustration. Was this guy an idiot? Pushing back against the FBI?

"How would you like to rethink this in a cell tonight on a charge of obstruction of justice? Would that help you understand what I want?" he hissed, grabbing the registry book.

"Obstruction? Jail? Me?" stammered the man, suddenly unsure how wise it was to piss off the FBI.

"Got it in one. You only had two registered guests today. This one checked in but left very soon afterwards. Show me his room!" Cho demanded.

Stockman had used a fake name, Norman Rivers, to sign in. Apparently security was pretty lax as he would have had to show his driver's license. Anything for a buck was the mantra in this motel. The night manager grabbed his keys and pointed to the room down the parking lot, telling Cho and his men that's where Rivers had stayed.

Cho left in disgust and soon reached the small dank room. Except for the messy bed, there was little sign that anyone had been there. A closet door was open with a pillow on the floor, the indentation of a small head still visible in the old soft form. Cho stared at the pillow and just knew that's where Stockman had put Anika when he went out to find a new car. Forensics would have to come in and sweep the room for fingerprints, but for now, Cho had learned a bit more to use in his pursuit of Mark Stockman. Anika was still alive as of a few hours ago. This small bit of good news would go a long way towards helping Patrick and Teresa cope until Anika was found. With the discovery of the black car Stockman was driving, Cho hoped it would be lead to his imminent capture. The case was beginning to turn in the FBI's favour. He stationed an Agent to stand guard over the room until the Forensic team showed up.

He left and returned to the office, glaring at the manager and gazing around the small space. An old laptop computer sat on a table by the side wall, but other than that, the room told him nothing. Wylie eyed the computer behind the desk.

"Who uses these computers?" he asked.

"This here one is for me and the other front desk personnel" the night manager said officiously, like he was running a high end establishment. "That one is for our guests to use, when it actually works. Most of the time it doesn't" he added.

Cho stepped over and tried to turn it on. Nothing happened. Wylie fiddled with it as well, but it stubbornly refused to switch on.

"See, stupid piece of shit" the manager said dismissively.

"Mind if we take it with us?" Wylie said, wanting to get it going and check to see who had used it last.

"Oh I don't know...I'd have to check with my…" the guy said again, before a stern look from Cho shut him down.

"Sure, take it. Good luck getting it to work, piece of crap technology!"

Wylie and the other agents unplugged it and took it with them back to the SUV. Cho asked the useless man a few more questions, but he didn't know anything except their man checked in and left without any fuss, paid in full. End of story.

Wylie was buzzing with eagerness to get back to the bullpen to take the computer apart and see what was on it. Cho prayed that it held a key piece of information that they could use to stop Stockman before he killed again. Somewhere out there, in Austin, Stockman lay in wait with Anika Jane in his hands. Cho felt it was getting late, very late, and if he didn't have another breakthrough soon, he could lose his Godchild, and the Jane's would lose their precious daughter. It was all up to Wylie and his team now.


	35. Dreams

Thank you so much for your reviews and ideas. Another weekend is around the corner and I wanted to add just one more chapter before we all get busy for a few days. Enjoy. Also, in upcoming chapters there will be mentions of violence against Anika. I don't want this to be a trigger for some of you who may have issues with this subject. It is done tastefully and without too much detail, but please, be forewarned.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 35

Dreams

Patrick and Teresa lay together on the bed, just holding each other, speaking very little. What more was there to say? Teresa had held off asking Jane what his nightmares were about, the ones plaguing him ever since he got away from Stockman. She had originally believed they were the usual kind he'd experienced ever since Angela and Charlotte died. Now, she needed to know if in fact they had changed somehow, under the stress of his abduction and his second daughter's disappearance. She had to know.

Teresa turned in the bed and faced Jane's profile, while he lay deep in thought. As she screwed up the courage to broach the subject of his dreams, he spoke first.

"You'll feel better if you just ask me Teresa. What's on your mind?"

Teresa blushed at being caught by her perceptive husband. There was very little that got past him, even now, under these conditions.

"I...was just wondering...what you've been dreaming about. Your nightmares...what do you see that has you so upset?" she finally asked.

Jane kept staring straight ahead, considering how much to tell his wife. She had enough worries. Did he need to burden her with the horrific scenes he saw playing out in his dreams every time he closed his eyes? He turned to take in her worried face. She was sorry she asked, he could see it, but she wanted to know, needed to know. Sighing deeply, he reached for her fingers and intertwined his with hers. Turning away from her again, he stared at the ugly painting of a boat at sea on the wall by the door. Why did hospitals always have such ugly, tasteless 'artwork' hanging in patient rooms? Did they want to depress them even further?

"Jane…"Teresa said softly, bringing him back to her question.

"Ahh...yes...my dreams. Are you sure you want to know? There's nothing good there Teresa, nothing you want living in your mind, trust me."

Now Teresa was worried anew. What was so bad that he didn't want to share it with her? She put her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards hers.

"Why would you keep that burden all to yourself when I'm here to cut it in half?" she said with love. "They're your dreams, not mine. Believe me, I have nightmares of my own" she confessed.

Jane smiled at that. She was right of course. She wasn't immune to nightmares of her own making. It would be easy to invent something suitably frightening to tell her, something that would satisfy Teresa into letting the subject drop, but soon enough she'd know he tried to fool her and that would do neither of them any good under the circumstances.

"OK. Maybe saying them outloud will make them less….real" Patrick said ominously. Teresa nodded approvingly. That's what she hoped for too.

"I...the dreams…" Patrick tried to begin, but where to begin? He'd had nightmares ever since Charlotte and Angela died, but Teresa was well aware of those dreams. She was more interested in what was haunting him now, since he woke up from his surgery.

"It's about Anika. Always Anika" he confessed.

"What about her Patrick?" Teresa asked with worry growing. He always claimed to be a fake psychic, but sometimes it just seemed like he knew things he shouldn't know.

Patrick lay back against his pillow and snaked his arm around Teresa's shoulders, pulling her close. With his eyes closed, Patrick let his mind go back to his drowning dreams.

"I see her being dragged through long grass, in a big green open space. At first, Angela and Charlotte were there, watching someone pulling KiKi towards the water while she tired to fight him off. In time I realized it was it was Stockman pulling her. I could smell the wet grass, smell the water close by, see it shining in the sun. So beautiful. The man never turned around, never showed his face but I knew what he was going to do, knew he would pull Anika down into the water while Angela and Charlotte stood and watched, unable to stop it from happening."

Teresa reached out for his right hand and squeezed his fingers. God, what a horrid scene to have playing over and over while he tried to sleep.

"At first, I didn't understand what the dream meant, because I had forgotten Stockman threatened to drown KiKi after I died. That was the last thing he said to me before he put that bag over my head and I began to suffocate. The message was there, deep down, buried in my mind, but until I remembered, my mind tried to warn me with those dreams."

"You were trying to warn yourself before Stockman took Anika."

"Yes. But I was too slow remembering" Patrick said with sadness. Knocking his head with his knuckles, he mocked himself. "Not such a mighty fortress after all."

"Don't. You'd had a head injury, you were stabbed and very sick, oxygen deprived. Why do you expect to be superhuman Jane? It's a miracle you remembered at all consciously. Most people would lock that memory away so deeply they would never remember just to stay sane. Your mind kept sending you hints, so you would remember. I'd say that's nothing to be sorry about."

Jane turned his head and kissed Teresa on the forehead. Maybe he could forgive himself after Anika was safe, but right now, he felt like he'd handed her over to Stockman on a silver platter.

"Are the dreams always the same?" Teresa asked, getting back on topic.

"No. They're always about KiKi being dragged somewhere to be drowned, but the dream itself changes. The scene is sometimes more visible to me, sometimes Charlotte and her mother aren't there. One time, Charlotte and Anika were both together, hand in hand, both in danger of drowning. See, I'm creative in torturing myself."

"Or maybe this is your mind trying to tell you where Stockman is going to take her. Did he say anything about where he'd do it? Is that why you can see the field and water so clearly in your dreams?" Teresa asked, sure there was a clue there the FBI could use. If only that was the case, Patrick would have figured out Stockman's plan by now.

"He didn't say where or when, just that it would happen. And the scene isn't really definitive. I know there's water, just over there...and here...long grass, bullrushes down at the water's edge, lots of space, clear skys, room to run. It could be anywhere with a lake and a public park, a forest with a lake, private land with a lake or river. It's because I don't know where he'll take her that my dreams are so nebulous, but real nonetheless. My mind is providing a scenario to fit the threat."

"I'm sorry. I was just hoping…" Teresa mumbled, seeing now why he was so tormented by just enough information to make him totally helpless about stopping his daughter's death.

"I know, me too. The dreams always come back, in one form or another, but they always stop just before Anika reaches the water. By then I'm so upset I usually wake up" Patrick admitted.

"That's a good thing. You shouldn't see that" Teresa reassured him, sad that once again, there was nothing she could do to assuage his nightly torments.

Patrick fell silent, replaying his dreams over and over again in his mind. He just didn't have enough information to attempt a guess at where Stockman would take her. For years he'd dealt with families in similar circumstances, at the FBI, but also earlier, when he worked for Teresa at the CBI. This felt like the old days with one terrible difference. This was their child out there in the ether.

Anika had only been gone since noon, and since noon, their world had been turned upside down. Each had their own thoughts about the possibility of their child never coming home again. How many cases had Jane and Teresa worked at the CBI that involved missing and murdered children? Usually, Jane figured out who took them and where they were hidden. Not all children came home alive though. Back then, he had employed his usual tricks to make it seem like he was still a psychic when it suited the outcome of the case, but it was always just flim/flammery.

"There's always a body of water nearby, always."

"I see him, it will be a boy."

"I see him in a cabin, not a cabin, I smell something sharp, pine needles, I see trees, lots of trees, I see a face…"

But that bit of show business was just to flush out the real kidnapper. Sadly, in Anika's case, they knew full well who had her and why, but Jane's scattershot approach to guessing where Stockman planned to murder her didn't work, not this time. He couldn't fool anyone into betraying Anika's whereabouts because there was no one who knew. Only Stockman. Jane's dreams were just that, dreams and nightmares, not psychic messages foreshadowing the true intentions of the kidnapper and he knew it. A drowning necessitated a body of water, and Jane's brain fabricated a scene to fulfil that prophecy.

With Jane growing more and more quiet, Teresa finally got up off the bed and stretched. She had to move, change the subject and brighten the mood.

"I'm going to get something to drink. Can I get you anything?"

Jane finally lifted his eyes and met hers. "Mmmm, that would be nice. You know what I want" Jane agreed, happy for the distraction. He was thirsty for a decent cup of tea, not the watered down swill that came with his meals.

Teresa left Patrick alone and made her way down to the cafeteria. While she was gone, he decided it was time to get up and get moving again. Being bedridden would only weaken his muscles and his determination to go home. He slid carefully out of bed and got his feet underneath him, relishing the cool tiled floor on his bare feet. He shuffled over to the bathroom, dragging his IV pole with him and took care of business, then splashed fresh water on his face to feel cleaner. He couldn't wait for a shower, as his hair still had the remnants of cement dust stuck down onto his scalp. When he was done, he made his way over to a large leatherette lounger near his bed, satisfied with himself. Ten minutes later, Teresa came back with goodies.

She brought a fresh cup of tea into Patrick's room, happy to see him up and ensconced in the lounger. Each time he got up he gained a bit more strength. He had been prepared to fake his wellness to go home in the morning, but now he was really beginning to believe he just might actually be well enough to handle the drive to his cabin in the country.

Teresa handed him his tea with a cookie while she sat on the edge of his bed with a coffee. They hadn't heard from Cho for quite a while, and that both worried and reassured them. Not hearing from him also meant he didn't have the worst possible news for them. It would be nice to know how the investigation was going, just a word or two to give them something to hold onto until the morning. Jane had gotten his head straightened out, his momentary breakdown an embarrassment but not unusual considering his history. Teresa looked haggard. She was bearing the lion's share of worry, caring for her injured, shaken husband, concerned about Benny's condition, and of course, the ongoing, unspoken terror of losing her child. She needed something to cling to, a tiny shard of evidence that Stockman wasn't invincible. What she wanted soon walked in the door.

"Everyone dressed in here?" a voice called out. A moment later, Cho stuck his head in the door and smiled at seeing Jane sitting up in a chair.

"Cho, good to see you! Get in here!" Patrick told him with a wave.

"Well you look a lot better than the last time I saw you" Cho said, heartened by Jane's improved colour and alertness. "When did they let you get out of bed?" he asked as he reached over to shake Jane's hand.

"Ahh, they didn't let me, I just did it. Feels good to be upright again" Patrick smiled.

Cho snorted. "Sounds about right."

"So, Cho, please say you have good news" Teresa stated, keen to know what was going on and uneasy with small talk.

"I wanted to let you know the latest. We found out that Stockman stayed at the Waterloo Motel earlier today, after he tried to kill Benita. He didn't stay very long even though he paid for the night. He also ditched the red car in downtown Austin and stole a black sedan, a Honda. He drove it back to the motel then left. We have the license plates so we're currently searching for the car."

"And Anika?" Jane asked.

"All indications suggest she was with Stockman as recently as a few hours ago. Alive, we believe. We found evidence of her around the motel room. That's good news. He's waiting for something, and if he waits long enough, we'll get him" Cho said convincingly.

"She's alive!" Teresa repeated, looking at Jane with relief before she prayed a quick prayer of thanks.

He nodded silently, gratefully. "Good work Cho. Anything else?"

"Hey, it was Wylie who found out where Stockman was staying, give him the credit. There was an old laptop in the front office of the motel that guests can use. We don't know if he used it but Wylie is taking it apart as we speak to see if Stockman did any searches on it. We'll know soon."

"Thanks for coming to let us know. We've been going crazy" Teresa admitted, standing up to take Jane's hand.

"How's Benita?" Cho asked.

"Better, full of painkillers. She didn't need surgery but they wanted to keep her in overnight for observation. She'll be hurting for a while but she'll soon be back on her feet" Teresa explained.

"Glad to hear she's OK. Is there anything I can get you Jane?" Cho said, standing up to go. He had a lot to do and needed to head out again.

"I'm fine, thanks. Just find Stockman and bring KiKi to us. That's all we need" Jane said solemnly.

"That's the plan. Catch you later." Cho left them alone to mull over this latest news.

"She's alive!" Teresa repeated in wonder, leaning down to kiss Jane in happiness. "They're getting closer Patrick. They know what Stockman's driving and the type of places he's staying. It's just a matter of time and we'll have our baby back home with us" Teresa said with renewed hope. Jane closed his eyes and envisioned his child stubbornly defying Stockman. Was that why she was still breathing?

Jane didn't say anything but opened his arms wide for Teresa to cuddle against him. Could this be the beginning of the end game at last?

(FBI - Austin Texas)

It was long past going home time, but Wylie and his team were not about to quit any time soon. Jane and Teresa meant the world to him and Wylie would stay up all night and the next and the next if it brought Anika home to her parents alive. After a bringing a small bagged supper up from the all night cafeteria, he resumed his task of opening the creaky laptop for inspection to see if Stockman had used it.

The laptop was ancient, and really, like the night manager had said, it was a piece of crap. The on/off button didn't work properly, and the power kept failing. Wylie had to do some rudimentary repairs before he had any hope of gaining useful information from it. After an hour of frustrating work, he tried again to switch the cursed thing on. This time the computer hummed to life and lit up, a relic of an earlier, less app driven digital age. Wylie whooped with satisfaction as the little machine glowed with life, until he tried to do a search on it to see what lay in its history.

The screen went black as smoke poured out from the underside causing Wylie to jump back to avoid sparks.

"No no no!" Wylie shouted as he raced to unplug the thing. The smell of burnt circuits and wiring, along with melted plastic, filled the room. He turned it over, burning his fingers as he quickly worked to put the fire out. By the time the worst of the smoking had stopped, Wylie looked at the computer with undisguised worry. What if the secrets it hid were no longer available, burnt to a crisp? Wylie called down to the IT department and had their best forensic man rush up to take over the restoration of the computer.

When the young man arrived, Wylie sat collapsed with defeat on his well worn chair.

"What's up bud?" the tech guru asked.

"This piece of crap, dinosaurus wreckus, just blew up in my face! I need what's on there and I need it now!" Wylie lamented.

"Leave it to me. What exactly are we looking for?" the man asked with curiosity.

"Everything!" Jason Wylie yelled, running his hands through his short blond hair. "The guy who kidnapped Patrick Jane also kidnapped his daughter. We might be able to find him and the child if we can restore this piece of shit ASAP! Reason enough for ya?" Wylie said in exasperation.

The tech guy Jed barely knew Patrick Jane, but he knew of him and his remarkable skills at catching bad guys. The fact that he was also one of them, the FBI family, and had lost his child, was impetus enough for him to grab the old laptop and take off running.

"I'll get it working, leave it to me Jason!" Jed called over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner with the smoldering old laptop.

With a sigh of resignation, Jason reached for his bagged supper and slowly unwrapped a stale tuna sandwich. His hopes of a speedy search report to Cho had just gone up in flames.

(Texican Motel - Austin Texas, Midnight)

The seedy motel room stank of sweat and stale beer. There was a very good chance living organisms had colonies established in the ancient carpeting. Stockman lay sprawled on the narrow bed, still fully dressed but passed out from one too many beers. Across the room, Anika lay in a small ball on the quilt, tangled up in the threadbare material. She had been awake for a short while and needed to pee, but when she gazed at the large man on the bed, she silently turned away from him and walked into the bathroom to pee without his permission. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. The burger she had eaten hours ago was the first food she had had since being kidnapped and it wasn't enough to fill her up. Eyeing the room, she couldn't find anything else to munch on, and she was also afraid to make noise in case the man woke up and smacked her. Silently, she walked back to her rumpled quilt and gathered it up around her small chilled body, finding solace in its folds of fabric. Her thumb went back into her mouth, giving her the only comfort she could manage until she was back in the sheltering arms of her Daddy and Mummy.

(Austin General Hospital)

Teresa stayed talking quietly with Jane long after she should have left at the announced end of visiting hours. Several nurses had come and gone during the evening, checking up on Patrick's vitals and they had turned a blind eye to the exhausted FBI agent holding vigil at his bedside. But enough was enough. A nurse came in to check up on her patient and spied Teresa, still there, but asleep against her husband's warm body. Patrick was sleeping too, with Teresa laying halfway across his bed, her head and arms on the uninjured side of his body. Viewing the pair of them sympathetically, the nurse hated to rouse either one of them, but the rules were in place for the wellbeing of the patient, not the visitor.

Gently shaking Teresa's shoulder, the nurse woke her up and smiled into her groggy face.

"I'm really sorry, but you must let your husband sleep now. Visiting hours ended hours ago."

Teresa sat up quickly, rumpled and with creases across her face. God she was tired.

"Oh...yeah...sorry. I guess we both fell asleep" she mumbled, looking at Patrick's peaceful face. "I couldn't persuade you to let me stay a bit longer?" she asked, but the nurse shook her head, no.

"Mr. Jane will do better if he really sleeps tonight. If he wakes up and sees you here, he'll feel inclined to visit to keep you company, and so on and so on...so neither of you really gets any rest. We'll take good care of him while you go home to sleep. Really!" the girl said with compassion.

Teresa ran her hand through her messy hair and straightened up. What the girl said made sense, and if Jane got his wish and came home early tomorrow, she had to be ready for him by being alert and well rested. With regret, she leaned over and gave Patrick a light kiss on his forehead, careful not to awaken him. Then she silently left him alone with the nurse, knowing he was in good hands. With one last look behind her, she opened the door, and finally allowed herself to go home.


	36. Showtime!

Another chapter? On a Saturday? What? Couldn't resist as we're getting dangerously close to Stockman's final act of revenge against the Jane family. Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 36

Show Time!

(FBI - Austin Texas, 2 am)

Cho had come back to the bullpen hours ago to catch up on paperwork. Time got away from him and when he looked at his computer, he was shocked to see it was 2 in the morning. He got up and wandered tiredly through the bullpen towards the elevators, worn out and happy to collapse into his bed. Turning to stare into the large quiet space, he was surprised to discover Wylie slumped despondently on Jane's sofa. He made his way over to the restless young man and shook him awake.

"Shouldn't you be home in bed by now?" Cho asked the sleepy young agent.

Wylie pulled himself upright and wiped his tired face with his hands.

"The laptop from the motel is a piece of shit, ahhh, sorry Sir, and when I finally got it going, it blew up. Flames, smoke, melted motherboard...the whole deal. I've got the best guys downstairs trying to restore as much of the memory as possible. I want to be here if they get it working again."

Cho sighed with frustration. Wylie was the best young IT agent he had, and if he couldn't get the laptop to work, the investigation was in trouble. Cho had planned to go home and catch a few hours of sleep, but now, he wasn't so sure he should. Wylie saw the indecision on his face.

"Agent Cho, there's no use both of us waiting for it to be rebuilt. I can sleep here on the sofa. Go home, sleep. I'll call you as soon as I find out anything pertaining to the case" Wylie suggested, knowing perfectly well that Cho didn't want to leave any bit of evidence unexamined.

The kid made sense. Cho nodded in agreement. He was dog tired and it was very late. If there was a break in the case he needed to be at his best to take control of the situation tomorrow.

"Call me the instant you get into that laptop" he said curtly before he turned and took the elevator down to his waiting car.

"Will do" Jason answered sleepily, already easing down into the butter soft leather cushions. In a few minutes, he was snoring softly.

(Austin General Hospital - 6:30 am)

Jane had slept relatively well all night, with only one or two bad dreams, but nothing as horrific as the nightmares that had haunted him recently. He didn't know whether that was a good thing or a sign that his subconscious mind had given up all hope of seeing Anika safe and rescued from Stockman. Dwelling on that thought only darkened his mood, a bad way to begin the day. A nurse came in to check his dressing and the small bag that held whatever the drain had collected. Smiling at seeing the scant, almost clear fluid, she checked Patrick's vitals and noted his fever was also gone. The extra 24 hours of antibiotics had done their job and he was doing well.

"I think these drains can come out now. Sound good?" she asked as she opened up a sterile wrapped kit containing everything she would need to remove the apparatus.

"Very good" Jane answered, happy to see another medical encumbrance removed from his body. "Can the IV go too?" he asked hopefully.

"One thing at a time…" the nurse mumbled as she concentrated on the job at hand. "Now just lay still, keep your hands away from your stomach…" she instructed Jane as she created a sterile field on his abdomen. With gloved hands she snipped the few threads holding the drains in place, then she gently started pulling the rubber tubing out of his body. As gross as the sensation was, Patrick said nothing, glad to finally have that annoyance gone.

It only took a few minutes and the nurse was finished the small procedure. Then she turned and started to take the needle out of the back of Jane's hand. That done, she pushed the IV pole and the bag hanging on it away from the side of the bed.

"Congratulations, you're a free man!" she said with a smile.

"Thank you" he replied, not wanting to be ungrateful but he was hardly free yet. That only would come with being at home with his whole family. He kept silent.

As she was leaving an orderly came in with a tray of real food, and a hot cup of lousy tea. Jane pulled himself up to a sitting position and noticed doing that was a lot less painful today than it had been this time yesterday. Surely he could go home in a few hours.

By 7:30 am he was sitting up in bed, restlessly waiting for the doctor to come and and give his judgement on his condition. At 7:35 the door opened and the doctor came in, followed closely by a much more refreshed looking Teresa.

"Good morning Mr. Jane. Look who I found in the hallway" the doctor said with smile.

Teresa walked around the doctor and kissed Jane on the cheek.

"You look bright today" she smiled, seeing he had finally found some good sleep.

"Morning, I'm feeling better. Want to go home" he replied, eyeing the doctor, daring him to let him go.

"How about I check you out? If you pass muster we can have you on your way in a very short while" the man answered.

Teresa stepped out of the way to let the doctor do his thing. Jane submitted to his poking and prodding with patience, doing his best to do what he was told.

"Can you get up on your own, walk across the room unaided?" the doctor asked, happy with the rest of Jane's checkup so far.

Patrick threw the covers off his legs and dropped his feet over the side of the bed. He slid off the mattress and stood up, straightened his back and slowly walked towards Teresa at the far end of the room. When he got there, he reached out and embraced her, holding her close in a loving hug. The doctor smiled and wrote something in his notes.

"Well I guess we can't keep you here any longer. You seem to be well enough to finish recuperating at home. Keep in mind, you are still recovering from surgery and an infection. You are not completely well, and must take care of yourself, otherwise, I'll keep you in another night" the doctor warned Jane.

"I understand. I won't do anything except rest" Jane agreed, giving the Scout's honour salute.

The doctor grinned, then continued. "I'll send along a prescription for oral antibiotics and a mild pain medication if you need it. I can't stress it enough, you must rest or all the good we've done will be undone. And with that, I think we're all finished here. As soon as you sign your release papers, you can be on your way Mr. Jane."

Jane walked back to the doctor with Teresa beside him, both of them smiling brightly.

"Thank you."

"Yes, thank you Doctor. I'll take good care of him. Make him rest" Teresa babbled, happy to take him back to his cabin outside Austin.

"No work, no running, plenty of sleep and relaxation. Go and see your family doctor if you suspect an infection in the wound site. Eat well and take small walks. You'll be fine in a couple of weeks" the doctor told both of them. "I'll send home a list of do's and don't's, but I think you'll be fine anyway" he added before turning to go and see his next patient.

The nurse stepped forward with the necessary legal medical form, which Patrick signed immediately. When she left, Teresa handed a bag of comfy clothes to Patrick and sat down while he got himself dressed.

"I need a shower" Jane mused as he pulled on his fresh shirt.

"Yes you do, but that can wait until later today. First, let's get you home and then you can take a nap while I run out and get some groceries. I haven't got much in the house right now."

"Ok, sure. I'll need some more English Breakfast Tea, you know the kind I like" Jane said as he pulled on his pants.

"Yup. Anything else you want, just let me know" Teresa smiled, happy that at least she wasn't going to be alone in their house now. Maybe today, they'd find Anika. Neither of them had mentioned her yet this morning, but she was always there, in the front of their minds, a huge piece of their lives missing, the reason for getting up in the morning and the essence of their future. She was still missing. There would be no true homecoming without her. They were both acting strong for each other, but it was just an act.

(Texican Motel- 8:30 am)

Stockman lay snoring on the bed, still hungover from his binge drinking the night before. He was no longer recognizable to anyone who had known him as Dr. David Litchfield. Then, he was well groomed, clean shaven, dressed in expensive suits and he exuded professionalism. Now, he had several days growth of whiskery stubble on his face, a bald head with a dirty bandage across the back of his scalp. He stank. His clothes looked like they had been scavenged from a rummage sale, and his eyes were sunken and dark. If this is what success and freedom looked like, it was no advertisement for anyone following in his footsteps.

He'd lost everything, through no one else's fault but his own, not that he could admit it to himself. He believed his sad situation should be blamed on many people; his parents, his cousin David, his classmates, the medical establishment for throwing him out of school just before graduation, that shithead Patrick Jane and all cops in general. And now, in just a few hours, when he woke up, he'd finally be free of all of them, truly free of America and her rules and regulations. He'd talk his way into a new medical career in a land of unending sunshine and wealth, a land made for men smart enough to swindle money out of the fools who fell for his easy lies.

KiKi was wide awake and sitting on the floor, quietly playing with the TV remote, handling it like the cell phones she saw grownups using all the time. The coloured buttons fascinated her, and she hit them randomly, holding the remote up to her ear and holding quiet conversations with her toys and imaginary friends. All went well until she hit a button that switched on the TV. As it suddenly screamed to life, a loud music video blared through the room waking Stockman up with a jolt.

"What the fuck?" he yelled, temporarily confused by the sudden onslaught of noise. Standing up, he saw Anika cowering against the wall in fear, the remote thrown against the room.

"You miserable little shit!" he yelled, running to pick up the remote and turning the TV off before any neighbouring renters pounded on the walls. Then he rounded on the child and picked her up, shaking her severely.

"What the hell do you think you're doing you bad bad girl!" he seethed into her tiny face. KiKi was so terrified she closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, blocking the bad man out of her sight. Seeing she didn't know what she had done, Stockman let her drop to the floor with a thud, then he stalked off to the bathroom to relieve himself in anger. Anika was so frightened she cried silently, having learned that making too much noise led to bad things. She had learned in a very short time to control her voice.

Stockman re-emerged and stared at the bedside clock. Seeing how late it was he suddenly sprang into action. That miserable kid actually did him a favour. He almost slept through his biggest plan yet! He gathered up his few belongings and ran out to his car, then came back and scooped Anika up in his arms, wrapped in the quilt.

"Come on, time to go" he whispered as he covered her up completely. She didn't fight back, her fear assuring compliance. Stockman put her on the back seat and ordered her to lie down. When she was out of sight, he put a seatbelt around her as best as he could then slumped behind the steering wheel and took off, leaving the motel and its stink behind him.

(FBI - Austin Texas, 8:45 am)

Wylie awoke with a start. The sound of phones ringing and computers clacking told him he wasn't alone anymore. As he opened his eyes and sat up, he realized his co-workers were back at their desks, working on their projects while he slept on Jane's sofa. Rubbing his eyes, and embarrassed to be caught sleeping, he jumped up and ran to his desk. What had he missed? Was the laptop working? Why didn't anyone wake him up?

The phone rang in the IT lab and the young man by the phone answered.

"Let me speak to Jed, right now!" Wylie said in a panic. A muffled shout was followed by the sound of footsteps.

"Jed, what's up?"

"Jed! It's Jason. Why didn't you wake me up? What's happening with the laptop?"

Jed sat down and rubbed his tired face.

"We worked on it all night. What a fiasco. Had to have some parts shipped in overnight and they got here about an hour ago."

"And?"

"And, we got it going. We're scanning the memory drive right now. We should have everything on your desk in 10 minutes."

"Oh thank you! You're the best Jed!" Wylie said in gratitude.

"I know. And you owe me big time" Jed said, rubbing his expertise in with pleasure.

"Anything, it's yours" Wylie agreed, hanging up. With renewed energy, he ran off to the mens' room to freshen up for the day. When he got back, a file sat on his desk. He sat down and opened it, reading every word, every search page. Something had to be of value there, somewhere.

(Jane Household 8:45 am)

A black SUV pulled up to the front of the house and Teresa stepped out. She ran around to the other side of the car and opened the passenger door to let Patrick out. He was delighted to see his cabin again, but he was stiff and sore from the trip home. Teresa reached out for his arm as he eased his legs out and down to the ground. Once he stood up, he felt much better.

"You finally made it home sweetie" Teresa said as she took his arm and walked him to the front porch. It had been a long time since he had seen his house, too long.

"About time too" he added, giving her a smile that he didn't feel. Anika wasn't there to throw herself into his arms. He couldn't rejoice just yet. Teresa guided him up the steps and unlocked the front door. Jane came inside and stood staring at the interior of the house with appreciative eyes. It looked the same as always, yet was totally different without his daughter's energy permeating the building. His old boomerang throw lay across the back of the sofa, his current book open and waiting for him on the coffee table. His old shoes were on the floor by the door, a reminder of his need to hold onto precious pieces of comfort. CD's, books, newspapers, magazines littered his overflowing bookshelf. It also held many photos of himself with Teresa and Anika. Over the fireplace a large photo of KiKi taken when she was just learning to walk, held pride of place over the mantle. A large stuffed alligator was waiting for Anika by the small chair beside the fireplace. Her yellow sweater lay across the chair where she had left it. A pang of grief stabbed Jane's heart when he saw all of these reminders of her. Was that all he'd have left of her if Stockman carried out his threat? Photos and stuffed toys and clothes no one would ever wear again?

Jane looked away and walked towards the kitchen. Reminders of Anika were scattered everywhere now that he really looked. Her drawings were on the fridge held on with magnets, childish paper flowers in styrofoam cups lined the window sill. Her bright red cup sat on the counter next to her dirty cereal bowl, left from her last morning at home. On and on it went, the small room littered with her essence, her belongings and evidence of her sweet life. Teresa saw what Patrick was doing, hell, she'd done the exact same thing each time she came home since KiKi was taken. Now she let Jane do the same without trying to distract him. He needed to come to grips with this emptier house, this new reality.

His steps faltered as he slumped down into his chair at the kitchen table and reached out for Teresa's hand.

"I think I can even smell her" he said quietly, eyeing her colourful placemat at her spot next to his.

"Me too."

"She needs to come home now" Jane said, gazing out of the kitchen window at nothing in particular.

"Right now" Teresa echoed as tears gathered in her eyes. She had held out for so long, trying to keep her emotions under control, but now, with Jane home, she felt like a raw wound, seeping all of her fears and doubts into the quiet space between them.

Jane turned to look at her and seeing her tear streaked face, he reached out and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. Both embraced silently, crying for their lost child, their grief and fears pooling in their mingled salty tears. Minutes passed, and neither wanted to let go, but finally Teresa backed up and wiped her face with her hands.

"We have to keep it together Patrick" she said in a strained voice. "We have to stay strong for KiKi. She's out there looking for us and we have to be ready when we get the call." She looked at Jane to see if he could do as she suggested.

He nodded his head and looked back at the alligator. His daughter needed him. He had to be strong, for KiKi, and for Teresa. He could do it for them.

"OK. OK. You're right, as usual" he said softly, wiping his face too. Clearing his throat, he stood up and headed for his tea cupboard.

"Want a coffee, tea?" he asked as he put the kettle under the cold water tap. This routine helped to calm him.

"No thanks, I should get going soon" Teresa said, keeping herself busy. "We need everything. Ever since you disappeared, I've hardly done anything around here. The laundry is piling up, the cupboard is almost empty, fridge is bare. Do you mind if I go out and get a few things to make lunch and supper tonight?"

Jane came over and hugged her. "You do what you have to do. I'll make some tea and have a lie down on the sofa. I'll be fine while you're out. I sleep better here than in a hospital."

"OK, good." Teresa turned to open and close the kitchen cupboard doors, checking to see exactly what she should buy just for today, doing the same with the fridge. Then she ran to the laundry room to start a load of washing, getting things back to normal now that her husband was finally home. By the time she had everything organized, Jane had finished his small cup of tea and was stretched out on the sofa, his hands crossed over his chest.

"I'm on my way Patrick" Teresa said quietly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "See you very soon. Be good while I'm out. No running or fooling around!" she warned.

"Fooling around will be strictly prohibited" Jane assured her, his eyes closed comfortably.

"Bye sweetie"

"Bye Teresa."

And then she was gone. The house was very quiet, a nice change from the continuous noise of the hospital, and Patrick sighed a sigh of relief. Lisbon would be home soon, then he'd make her a coffee and they'd sit on the porch, waiting for Cho to call. He was tired from his busy morning and fell into a light sleep. The day had only just begun.

Across town, Stockman drove the black Honda on sideroads as much as possible to avoid detection. A few lane changes over two main highways outside Austin would take him directly to his destination, then he could relax. Driving away from the downtown core, he had time to think about what he was going to do very very soon. Since he began impersonating his cousin David he'd killed several people, enjoying each death as it flattered his ego and sense of the dramatic. But this kid...could he really kill a kid, a baby, really? She had done nothing to him, but her father had stuck his nose in where it didn't belong, plus he and his wife were both FBI, the Feds. That alone made Anika vulnerable. Seeing the understanding of their imminent death in the eyes of some of his victims as he killed them had given Stockman a thrill akin to a sexual climax, but could he feel that if he murdered a toddler? She would have no such understanding and would only struggle because she didn't like what he was doing.

Death had no meaning for such a young child. For that reason alone it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as killing an older kid. What a philosophical conundrum, he mused. As he left the anonymity of the seedier part of town, Stockman had to stop overthinking her impending murder and become more watchful for cops. Soon he'd be in a more heavily travelled part of the city, so he stopped his musings and made his mind up. She would die today, but any pleasure he got out of the act would be in knowing what it would do to her mother and father, if he was alive. Good enough!

Anika lay still on the backseat, silent as a ghost, which she most surely would be very soon. He eyed her in his mirror and smirked with satisfaction. Patrick Jane either was or wasn't still alive. Either way, his daughter soon would most definitely be dead. Jane's existence now was just a minor footnote to Stockman's evolving plan. By tonight, if everything went his way, which it always did, he'd be on his way out of the country one last time.

Stockman merged into heavier traffic, keeping his eyes open for any sign of a police car. By now he knew the Honda had been reported stolen, and his license plates screamed out for identification by some sharp eyed uniformed cop. He needed to get to a quieter road off the beaten track as fast as possible. Just a few minutes more, and he'd be out of sight and free to complete his most scandalous murder yet.


	37. The Face in the Dream

Time has run out, it's too late, the devil is in control. The clock that was ticking down to the final chapter in Stockman's book of horrific deeds has finally hit zero hour. Again, be warned of abuse of a child.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 37

The Face in the Dream

(FBI - Austin, 9:10 am)

Wylie stretched with fatigue and got up for coffee break. So far he had discovered that most of the people who had used the laptop were only looking for porn. The pages he had uncovered were uniformly disgusting but he had to search each and every bit of web history. Who knew what Stockman had been looking for, if he had used the laptop at all? After chatting with some other agents, he came back to his desk to resume his search. More porn, directions to the border, online orders for food, random searches of CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, it was all typical of travellers pausing for some online stimulation before they left and drove away. Sighing with boredom, he drank his coffee and peeled through more web pages, growing disillusioned with his lack of success. Maybe this was a total waste of time after all.

(Austin City limits - 9:15 am)

Stockman left the last highway crossover and took a sideroad into the country. Over the trees he could still see the taller buildings in Austin's city centre, including the lovely Capitol building, but ahead of him the signs of city living were rapidly disappearing. He was out of his element. Back home in Blanchard County, he knew every major highway in and out of the County, every back road, country lane, path and bike track. Here, he was relying on an online map that may or may not be up to date. He didn't like the feeling of being at the mercy of a computer. 15 minutes later, he searched for the little used road he needed to carry out his plan for Anika Jane.

KiKi was lying still on the back seat, her eyes closed and her thumb in her mouth. She had stopped sucking her thumb more than a year ago, but with all of the stress she was under, she had regressed back to doing what babies did to comfort themselves. If she stayed with this man much longer, she'd start wetting the bed again. She was reverting to more babyish behaviour in an attempt to block out the ugliness and unpredictability surrounding her. The road became bumpy and the car swayed a bit as it left the more manicured road for a country lane. Stockman stopped at one point to make sure he had taken the right road. Out here, it all looked the same. If he was driving right into the arms of a State Trooper sitting on the side of the road with a speed trap, he'd be in handcuffs before he could think. As more side roads were left behind, Stockman had to trust that this hike out into countryside was worth all the trouble. KiKi hoped the man would keep driving and leave her alone, but in another few minutes, the car came to an abrupt stop and her back door was yanked open.

"Get out and don't make a sound" Stockman growled at her, grabbing her by her waist. Anika was pulled across the seat and jumped down onto the grass. She looked at her new surroundings and found herself in a big field of wild grasses, with tall trees all around. She could be anywhere and was disoriented. It was very quiet out here, but she searched to see if more grownups were there too. Maybe one of them might take her to her Mummy and Daddy.

Stockman took her by the hand and started to walk towards a hedge in the distance, ringing the land he had parked on. It was a long walk and Anika stubbornly refused to cooperate. She dragged her feet and pulled back against his hand. She slowed him down and when he yelled at her, she bit his hand. Then she attacked him with her tiny hands, trying to scratch him, but she was nothing compared to him. When she began to scream, Stockman swung around and slapped her hard across her mouth, stunning her into silence. Gradually, as her shock wore off, she began to wail, drawing too much attention to themselves. What if someone was close by and would come and investigate to see what this man was doing to this kid? As her screaming got louder, he pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and jammed it into her open mouth. Before she could grab it and throw it away, he threw her down on the ground and put his knee into her small back, pinning her down.

"Shut the hell up and do as I say!" Stockman groused, taking a long cord out of his pocket. He pulled Anika's hands behind her back and tied them together. Once he was done, he pulled her back up onto her feet and dragged the silent child forward once again. Now, there was nothing Anika could do to get away from this big angry man. The hedge bordering this large piece of land grew closer, and when they reached it, Stockman pushed Anika to the ground, telling her to sit there and be quiet. Then, he crouched down to study the shimmering water in front of him.

It was show time!

(Jane Household)

Jane lay on the sofa dozing, partially aware of little house noises around him, but mostly asleep. Coming home had been so wonderful, except that Anika wasn't there to give Patrick a big kiss to get better. It was a bittersweet return to the cabin Patrick had built for his little family. Sleep was what the doctor had ordered, so Patrick promised he'd do just that. He could have curled up in his big king-sized bed in the spacious master bedroom he'd built onto the back of the cabin, but he was tired of being alone in a bedroom. The sofa had been a better alternative. Being there in the living room made him feel less like a patient and more like a husband napping while Teresa went about her day. With Anika still in Stockman's clutches, there was nothing ordinary about their days now, but somehow, they had to carry on.

Assured that he would stay put on the sofa, Teresa finally gave in to the need to shop for the first time in days. She planned to pick up some regular supplies and groceries, but wanted to buy all of Anika's favourite treats, just in case she came home soon. She hoped that Patrick was fine by himself for an hour or two. Cho had asked Teresa to stay home and let the FBI corner Stockman and bring Anika home and she had agreed, but with mixed feelings. The hardest thing for her to do was to let someone else search for her baby.

After Teresa left, the sound of birds chirping lulled Patrick into a light nap. His tired body gave in to the need for sleep, but soon, bleak images of despair crowded his dreams, populated by a faceless man in black who dragged Charlotte and Anika by their wrists towards a huge dark, bottomless lake. While his heart rate rose with anxiety, sweat broke out on Jane's forehead and he tossed fitfully against the sofa cushions. He needed someone to rouse him and tell him it was just a dream and it would soon pass, but he was alone with his demons. Angela was nowhere to be seen in the dream, but Charlotte was now a captive of the devil who had Anika. Sisters by birth, they would soon be sisters in death. Patrick grimaced as he tried to reach out to save Anika, knowing it was too late to help his precious Charlotte. The man, who seemed to be superhuman in strength and size, dragged the two children forward, laughing as they struggled against his superior size. As the man advanced towards the water, he paused, turning to look behind himself. Finally, Jane stared into the hard black eyes of Mark Stockman.

KiKi lay on the ground, eyeing her captor with terror. No one had ever played a game as frightening as this with her. Being tied up with scratchy rope and choking on a dirty rag was no fun, and he was a bad bad man to do it to her. She was more angry than teary at the moment, but as soon as he untied her she was going to scream her little head off. Maybe then someone would come and take her back to her mother. Stockman sat on his haunches, staring at the expanse of grass ahead of him. To his left, the murky water surrounded by reeds and long grass waited to receive Anika's warm body. Behind him, the hedge divided the property in two, and above him, the land rose in a gentle slope to a building overlooking the lush countryside. A little Eden, he mused. It looked similar to what Google Earth had shown in an old photo on the internet, but improvements had obviously been made recently.

This was the perfect place to drown a little girl, so appropriate, theatrical and shocking. This was better than his original choice for killing Anika. Lake Travis was so vast, so deep and so hard to monitor, he would have had no problem slipping onto the land to push Anika Jane into the water far away from the most populated areas on the Lake, far away from boaters and nosey homeowners. Yes, Lake Travis was an obvious choice to commit a drowning, but this, this was even better. Where better to drown Patrick Jane's child than on his own land, in his own pond, at the bottom of the hill where his family home stood?

Stockman sat back in the bushes studying the Jane cabin, looking for any sign that he wasn't alone. Soon the front door opened and Agent Teresa Jane left the house and drove away. It would have been so easy to put a bullet into her as she stood beside her car, but if she died, who would be left to mourn the loss of KiKi forever? As for Patrick Jane, now that it was a possibility that he still was alive, Stockman had to made a decision. He could run up to the house and search it or just stick to his original plan. Stockman had to see Jane with his own eyes, and know for sure that he really did survive that harrowing strangulation back at the cement factory. If he was at home, he must be recuperating from his injuries. Should he let him live to suffer the loss of his second child? Would that be the best way to torture him, or should he creep up to the house and put a bullet between Jane's eyes while he was so frail and vulnerable? That way, Teresa would have lost her entire family. Either way, he could decide what to do after he'd held Anika's head under the cold pond water until she choked on her own vomit and breathed her last.

Now that he had the property to himself, Stockman relaxed and cast a critical eye towards the struggling little girl beside him. She had been so nasty to him, biting and scratching at every opportunity, so he had finally bound her little wrists together and put a dirty gag in her mouth. That shut her up. Now she lay on the ground desperately trying to stand, but she couldn't find a way up with her hands tied behind her. Silent wails creased her tear stained face as she feared this scary man more than ever. Whatever game he was playing was too mean, too frightening, and it had gone on far too long. She could see her house atop the soft rise of the land and hoped her Daddy or Mummy would soon come out and find her. She never gave up hoping that they would put a stop to this terrible game. As she saw her mother get into her car and leave, she cried all the harder into her gag with disappointment. Her Mummy wasn't coming for her after all.

Stockman waited until Teresa's car drove out of sight and merged with traffic heading into Austin before he left his hiding place. Now he could finally carry out his plans and be rid of this miserable kid once and for all.

"Stand up KiKi!" he barked, yanking her up by one arm, hurting her once again as her small wrists were pulled against their restraints. She tried to run away but he caught her in an easy two steps. Swatting her backside, he threatened to hit her face again if she didn't listen and obey.

"You stop that right now or your Daddy and Mummy will never come for you, understand me?" he yelled.

Anika stopped pulling away from him and became still. This was the absolute worst thing she could imagine. Could this man keep her parents away from her forever? Staying with him would be so scary! She didn't know why it was so hard for her Mummy to come for her and why this man told her so many bad things, but grown ups knew everything, so she had to be good. Stockman stepped out of the bushes with Anika tight in his grip by the upper arm, pressing large finger sized bruises into her soft flesh. Tears ran down her face in pain as he dragged her forward. He turned away from the house and set his sights on the real point of interest to him. With a smile, he tugged on the child's arm with a harsh, "Come on!"

At the top of the hill in his cosy cabin, unaware of the tragedy unfolding below him by pond, Jane tossed and turned on the sofa, the nightmare scene in his dream getting more and more malevolent. Charlotte cried out to him to come and get her while little Anika clung to her older sister for support. Jane was running running running but never seemed to get any closer to the two girls and the evil man taking them away. Calling out to them, Jane's voice disappeared on the wind, their ears never catching the sound of his voice. Where was Teresa? Why wasn't she there to stop all this? As the girls got closer to the edge of the dark water, a jolt of panic shook Jane out of his sleep and he suddenly sat bolt upright. The unguarded motion sent shards of pain across his middle, but he took deep breaths to handle the discomfort. What had awakened him? Looking around, he could see he was still alone.

Teresa wouldn't be home for a while and he was safe, save for his nightmares. Supposing the dream had frightened him so much that he had to wake up to escape seeing his daughters die in front of him, Patrick stretched and felt grateful to be awake again. He was so so tired of this sleeping torment and its portent of catastrophe. After taking a moment to calm himself, he carefully eased himself over to the edge of the sofa, then stood up unsteadily and decided to walk to the kitchen for a glass of cold water.

A cane had been left leaning against the coffee table, a hint from Teresa to use it and not be so stubborn if walking was painful. Smiling at her obvious ploy, Patrick gratefully grabbed the cane and used it to pull himself up straighter. It did help, he had to admit. He strode off across the living room with even steps, taking his time to reach the kitchen. Every step forward was a step closer to wellness...isn't that what some doctor had once said to him? Cheesy homilies, but it was true. As he poured himself a drink of water he gazed out of the kitchen window and admired the beautiful view. The Jane family had a resident flock of ducks who proudly lived on and ruled the pond at the bottom of the garden. Humans and ducks gave each other respect and room to flourish in this tiny bit of heaven on earth, but today, Jane was surprised to see the ducks all rise up and take flight, swooping and circling the pond, quacking their disapproval over some perceived slight.

Patrick leaned forward carefully to see what had gotten them so upset, but from this vantage point, he could only see one far corner of the pond. Whatever made the ducks angry, it was happening somewhere else on the pond. Finished with his glass of water, he decided to walk to the front door and sit on the verandah, relishing the sun and clean air. Sunshine would speed his recovery much quicker than any days spent in a hard hospital bed.

Down the hill and approaching the pond, Stockman was half dragging, half carrying Anika forward, forcing her to keep up while he strode towards the water's edge.

"Wanna go swimming KiKi?" Stockman laughed, turning to look at his little hostage. KiKi shook her head vigorously, no! She knew it was too cold to splash in the pond now, Daddy had told her only a short time ago. Next spring, when it gets warmer, he had said, then we'll play in the water. She looked at this strange man with confusion. Why did he want to swim now on such a chilly day? Where was his bathing suit? Stockman saw the stubborn resistance in the child's face and a harsh raspy laugh escaped his lips.

"I think you wanna go swimming today, don't ya kid?"

Anika shook her head no again and tried to pull her arm out of Stockman's large fist.

Stockman ignored her attempts to get away and whistled as he walked closer to the bottom of the sloping lawn.

"Can you swim KiKi? Did Daddy teach you how to float yet?" he grinned, pulling her forward until her shoes were dragging across the dry grass. Ahead of them the edge of the pond was ringed by long grasses and bullrushes, home to the family of ducks and frogs. Anika knew that she was not to disturb the ducks, that's what Mummy and Daddy told her all the time when she went barrelling downhill towards the beautiful, shimmering water. Why would this man want to bother her duckies? She was so confused, and now he wanted her to float? What did that even mean?

"Almost there sugar" he said, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket. He stood still for moment to light it while Anika pulled back against his fist in a last ditch attempt to break free and run to her house.

Inside, Patrick was making his way slowly across the wide expanse of the old wooden floors from the kitchen, through the living room, to the front door. He was getting tired but it felt good to be up and moving again. Grasping the cane with one hand , he slowly made his way through the spacious house. When he finally reached the heavy wooden front door, he turned to look out the front window set into it to let in morning light. What he saw made his blood run cold. His nightmare, the one that tormented him time and again every time he fell into a deep sleep, was playing out at the bottom of his own garden. Down the hill, almost at the water's edge, a man was dragging KiKi towards the pond!

Stockman!


	38. Living the Nightmare

This is it. Stockman's endgame is playing out. Thank you for your wonderful reviews and comments, really great to read. One thing, I have taken the liberty to describe the Jane property slightly differently to what we saw on the TV show. There, the cabin sat on a slight rise in the land with the pond not so terribly far away. In this story, the property is very big (as it might have been on the show but we don't see that), and the house sits atop a hill, with a long slope down to the pond. So, it takes longer to get to the pond than it might have on the Mentalist. Enjoy!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 38

Living the Nightmare

Jane let out a scream of horror, his repetitive nightmares now an appalling reality. Fumbling for his cellphone as he yanked open the heavy door, he realized with panic he'd left it in his pile of dirty clothes which were now in a laundry basket in the laundry room on the other side of the house. He had no time to waste trying to get to it. His only thought was to stop the madman dragging Anika to her death before it was too late. He walked as quickly as he could manage to the front porch, never taking his eyes off his daughter. Down below, KiKi was putting up a fight, pulling and yanking on Stockman's hand, doing everything she could to slow him down. KiKi was a Jane, fighting for her life 'til the bitter end. While Stockman just ignored her futile attempts to get away, he puffed on his cigarette and gazed out over the water.

When he researched Patrick Jane on the internet back at the motel, he had discovered through various social media links that he had only married Agent Teresa Lisbon Jane a few years ago. He knew from previous research that Angela, Jane's first wife, had been killed by Red John, as was his daughter Charlotte. But what he didn't know was that Jane had moved out of Austin itself and was living in a bucolic countryside cottage, far removed from honking horns and traffic jams. When he found the location of the Jane household on Google Earth, he made the startling discovery that Patrick Jane had a deep pond on his land. What better place was there to drown his precious daughter but right in his own backyard? That had set this plan in motion. Before he knew about the place were Patrick Jane lived, he would have had to settle for one of the hundreds of lakes in and around Austin, but this, well this was almost a sign from God that Anika had to be drowned in her very own duck pond!

Jane was down the front steps and making his way silently across the lawn, desperate to call out to his baby, to warn her, to boost her spirits, to stop Stockman from harming his little girl, but he dared not. Calling out would only give Stockman a chance to kill KiKi quicker, or he'd turn and shoot Jane, then kill the child. In his current condition Patrick knew he couldn't fight the man away from KiKi, but if he took him by surprise, he might just have a chance against his stronger enemy. He hoped Anika would not see him approach. Once she saw her Daddy coming to her rescue, the game would be over and he would be a sitting duck himself. Down the hill, Anika was busy trying to disentangle herself from the odious man forcing her to go for a 'swim', and never turned to look towards the house again. No one had come to help her. Mummy and Daddy were gone, she didn't know where, but she knew she was totally alone with this mean man. Stockman enjoyed the last few puffs on his cigarette while he surveyed the lovely pond. He would like living here. It was beautiful. No doubt when Anika was dead, and the Jane family was destroyed, this doomed property would be sold. Stockman would love to buy it but of course, he'd be in the Caribbean and would never know who ended up living like a king way out here. The image made him laugh until KiKi reared up and kicked him in the back of the knees, making him collapse instantly to the ground. As he fell in shocked surprise, he let go of her arm and she took off like a jackrabbit, running for the dense bushes to hide herself away. Stockman was down before he knew what had happened but he soon scrambled to his feet, turning to see where that miserable shitty kid had gone. He still had his back to Jane, such was his consternation at being outsmarted by a 2 ½ year old child.

"Anika! Come out here sweetie! Time to go swimming!" he yelled as he slowly walked back towards the bushes.

Jane smiled seeing his child's resourcefulness and used this advantage to get closer to Stockman while he was preoccupied with getting Anika back. He forgot about the pain growing in his abdomen, forgot about walking cautiously, forgot every bit of medical advice he'd received. Patrick's sole focus was on getting to Stockman as quickly as possible and letting Anika find a hiding place.

(FBI - Austin Texas)

Wylie chewed on a piece of candy as he read the mind numbing data on the page before him. Porn, porn, porn, Instagram, Facebook, CBI history, Google Earth, traffic map, porn, porn..

Wait up…

CBI History? Instagram? Facebook? Who was using the computer, a grade 11 history student? Google Earth?

As Wylie closely examined the date, a clear picture emerged of a search someone had done on the employees of the CBI years ago, specifically one Patrick Jane. Fast forward and various social media sites made fleeting mentions of the wedding of Teresa and Patrick Jane in Austin. Then a search of deeds showed someone had researched the ownership of a house. Jane's house. The Google Earth search showed exactly where they lived now...in the country...by a pond…

Oh Jesus!

Wylie ran screaming for Cho, forgetting protocol and dignity. Cho heard him coming all the way from the bullpen.

"Cho! Cho! I know where Anika is!" Jason yelled as he ran into his office.

"Calm down. Tell me everything" Cho ordered him, already standing up to put his gun in his body holster and reaching for his jacket.

"Stockman did a search...Google Earth...long story short...he's going to drown KiKi in Jane's own pond at his house!" Wylie said in a rush, white faced and terrified.

"You sure?" Cho asked as he began to jog towards the elevators.

"Sure!"

Cho turned to shout into the bullpen for reinforcements. Turning to Wylie, he told him what to do next.

"Call Teresa. Tell her to protect Jane and be on the lookout for Stockman. We're on our way!"

As Cho stepped into the elevator, he was joined by all of the agents who heard Cho's call to action. More were soon summoned.

Wylie nodded numbly and ran for his desk, picking up his phone with shaking fingers. He hit speed dial and waited while Teresa's phone rang.

Teresa was parking her car at her local grocery store when her phone buzzed with a call. Her car was equipped with a phone app and when it rang, she hit the 'allow' button to hear the call.

"Hello?"

"Teresa! Stockman's going to drown KiKi in your pond. Are you home?"

Teresa almost crashed her car into a pole at the message Wylie was shouting at her in panic.

"What? No! KiKi's at the house with Stockman?" she repeated back to him, trying to process this information. Jane was there, helpless against a foe like Stockman.

"Yes, are you there?" Wylie asked again.

Teresa turned on her siren and pulled a U-turn in the parking lot, earning her more than one curse and middle finger from annoyed drivers.

"I'm at the grocery store, are you sure she's there Wylie?" she barked.

"Just go!" Wylie yelled, in full blown panic mode now. "He knows where you live Teresa!"

Teresa hung up and hit the gas pedal, a spike of panic twisting her gut. She almost swerved into oncoming traffic as the meaning of the message hit home. Jane was there, at home alone, and he needed help. Anika was going to die and he couldn't prevent it by himself! Teresa got on her phone and dialed Cho.

"Teresa, I know. I'm on my way" he said before she could ask for more clarification. Oh God, this was really happening!

As she swung the car around into traffic she pulled a portable flashing light out from under her seat and placed it atop her SUV. As her siren blared and the police lights flashed, the traffic cleared a path for her to race back towards her home in the country. She prayed all the way, clutching her cross, praying that she wasn't too late to save her family.

Cho yelled for his agents to follow him as he grabbed a Kevlar vest from his vehicle. They followed his lead, prepping for a firefight.

"Stockman's at the Jane residence, follow me! He has Anika!" he explained. A surge of bodies followed close behind him, in a phalanx of black SUV's. Whatever happened in the next hour, Cho would make sure Stockman was either dead or behind bars before nightfall.

(Jane Property)

Anika scurried awkwardly under the bushes where she and Stockman had so recently been hiding. Her hands were still tied behind her back, making movement difficult. She was small enough to avoid many of the branches in the bushes and pushed herself forward until she emerged on the other side. Now she ran, seeking another hiding place where that mean man wouldn't find her. Ahead she could see a pile of bricks her Daddy had been using to build a large outdoor barbeque. Next to the bricks was a wheelbarrow and the barbeque, large enough to hold several steaks, burgers and grilled veggies. An almost completed bread oven sat next to the grill, although KiKi had no idea what any of this was used for. What she could see was a hole in the brickwork, large enough for her to climb inside if she could just get up into that space several feet off the ground. With nothing else even close to being a good hiding place, she decided to try her luck at the brick oven. She scrambled across the lawn towards the outdoor cooking area, never daring to look behind her. When she reached the barbeque and oven, she noticed a picnic table beside the grill. If she could step up onto the seat and then the tabletop, maybe she could then crawl into the bread oven and hide.

Down by the pond, Stockman was bent over, peering through the bushes trying to see where Anika had gone. Dammit this kid was a pain in the ass! He finally got down on his hands and knees to begin crawling through the hedge again, when he was stunned by a blow to his head. As he fell in shock, he looked up into the enraged face of Patrick Jane, a wooden cane raised high over his head ready to be used again to subdue Stockman.

"Well hello Agent Jane!" Stockman groaned, raising his hand to his head to feel the lump rising under the partially healed stitches across the back of his scalp. "Nice to see you again. I thought I killed you?"

Jane advanced on his prey and struck him again with his cane, throwing himself off balance in the process. As Jane swayed and tried to steady himself, Stockman lunged forward and threw himself at his attacker, grabbing Jane's knees and bringing him down hard to the ground.

"Leave my daughter alone you bastard!" Jane shouted, desperate to get back up and away from the much stronger Stockman.

Stockman put a knee into Jane's chest, eliciting a scream of pain as the stitches in his side stretched and protested against the pressure on the still healing wound.

"Agent Jane. My my my. Why the fuck can't you just die like everybody else?" Stockman sneered, leaning down almost nose to nose with his disabled victim.

"I can kill you and still drown your precious rugrat" Stockman breathed into Jane's tortured face. "And there isn't a damned thing you can do about it!" he laughed, grabbing Jane by his collar and dragging him upright.

"Call your daughter and get her to come back here!" Stockman ordered Patrick.

"Go to hell!" Jane wheezed, dazed with pain. As long as Anika stayed hidden, he just might save her, even if he died in the process. She was worth dying for.

"Oh I do believe that's where we'll all end up Mr. Jane, but first I have to finish what I started. So call your kid right now or it will be worse for her than a simple drowning!"

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" Patrick taunted the man, willing to do and say anything to delay Stockman's pursuit of Anika. When was Teresa going to show up with reinforcements?

"There's no way I'm going to call my daughter back here just so you can kill her. She's smarter than you on her worst day Stockman!" Jane sneered into his face, desperately trying to pull away from his attacker's iron grip.

"Shut the fuck up and do what I say!" Stockman roared in anger, swinging his fist into Jane's jaw. As his head snapped around from the blow, Jane's knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground, semi-conscious and defenseless. Stockman stepped away from his foe and resumed his search for the little girl. Crawling through the hedge he stood up on the other side and cast his eyes across the wide property. There were more hedges and small bushes rimming the perimeter of the property, hills and valleys, a small shed not too far away, a mostly built brick barbeque beside an outdoor oven, and a pile of bricks off to his right. Where could such a tiny girl run to so quickly? Her size made it easy for her to blend in with the greenery, so that's where he started, running along the hedge, pushing bushes out of his way to see if she was standing inside a large shrub. As the minutes ticked by, he could find no trace of her. Now he turned his attention to the next closest hiding place, the brick barbeque. As he ran towards it, he noticed a small pink tennis shoe lying in the grass. Anika had come this way!

Teresa turned off the main highway and hit the dirt covered country road that led to her home. Behind her she could hear sirens, knowing Cho was on his was as well. She sped up and turned off her flashing lights and siren so as not to alert Stockman of her arrival. Sweat dampened her shirt and face as she became more and more anxious about Anika and Jane's safety. Jane was in no shape to defend himself against his much stronger adversary. He could already be dead. Tears were falling on Teresa's cheeks without her knowledge, her home seeming impossibly far away. Speeding through the countryside, she noticed everything looked so peaceful, so still, so utterly tranquil as she drove towards her enemy. How could her family be this close to death while the world carried on unawares?

Jane lay on the ground, stunned, bleeding heavily from a punch to the mouth. His jaw ached and his gut was rebelling from all of the rough activity he put himself through. A warm rush of fresh blood dripped down his side and into his clothing. As he regained his senses, Jane stared up at the sky and tried to understand why he was lying by the pond in pain, flat on his back. Turning to gaze at his surroundings, he spied the bushes to his left and remembered why he had come down here today. Stockman had brought Anika home to die! Jane slowly rolled over and tried to sit up, his hand automatically going to his damaged side, covering the bleeding wound with pressure. As he got up to his knees, he looked for Stockman, but he was gone. He put one unsteady foot down and got up on wobbly legs, then Patrick stumbled towards the hedge, peering through to see where his daughter and her pursuer had gone. Stockman was running towards the barbeque area Jane had been constructing, so Patrick pushed his way through the bushes painfully, intent on slowing the man down until Cho and Teresa showed up. They had to show up, soon!

As he ran slowly behind Stockman, his nemesis was advancing on the pile of bricks, eyeing the wheelbarrow and discarded building materials to see if the child was hunkered down behind them. Finding nothing, he ran up to the picnic table and stared at the barbeque and bread oven, seeing the potential for someone tiny to crawl inside to the back of the dark oven and hide from sight. Anika could fit in there…


	39. Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

I considered not publishing the newest chapter until Monday. However, since some of you are about to explode with tension, I thought I'd better let you know what happens before things get messy. Enjoy! And, to all my Guest reviewers, I can't respond to a Guest review but I love them and appreciate your comments!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 39

Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

A small pink tennis shoe peeked out from the darkness of the brick oven, while a white socked foot nervously twitched beside it. Stockman silently crept up to the oven and bent down to peer inside. Anika held her breath, hoping the nasty man couldn't see her. As she closed her eyes and thought about her Mummy and Daddy and her soft teddy bear on her bed, she tried to close the world out and become invisible. She withdrew even farther into the back of the oven, until a large white hand suddenly darted into the small space and grabbed her socked foot. A high pitched shriek rewarded Stockman for his stealthy approach as his rumbling laugh terrified the little girl. The evil giant had found her hiding place.

Screaming in fear, Anika began kicking Stockman's hand with her other foot, but he slowly pulled her leg forward, dragging her across the rough brick surface, scoring cuts into her soft flesh. The slow exit from the safety of the oven continued until her body was back in the sun. KiKi fought her tormentor off as well as a toddler could, but he was Goliath compared to her small frame, and within a few more seconds he had pulled her all the way out and held her around her waist.

"Never run away from me! Understand?" he screamed into her face as she sobbed against the rag stuffed into her mouth. She nodded, signalling she understood, then he turned to resume his mission at the pond. As soon as he faced the hedge again, a heavy brick slammed into his face and he dropped like a rock to the ground, with Anika landing on top of him. Jane stood over his enemy, struggling to stay upright and seething with rage.

He made sure Stockman wasn't about to get up again, then turned and grabbed Anika, holding her against his legs, overwhelmed with joy and relief. He had been in time, he had saved her! He tore the gag out of her mouth and untied her little wrists.

"Da (hic) da (hic) daddy" Anika sobbed, hiccuping from stress and panic as she clung to him.

Now free of her bonds, Anika leaped up into his arms and clung to him like he was a life preserver in a storm tossed sea. Jane held her tightly, desperately, amazed that they both had survived Stockman, crooning "baby baby baby" softly into her warm body. She wept with relief at finally being set free by her big brave father. Jane buried his head in her shoulder, smelling her sweet childish scent mingled with sweat. Trembling with emotion, KiKi mumbled her babyish happiness at being safe at last. She was alive, gloriously alive! Jane realized he was crying with her, but his were tears of joy. When she was able to speak again, Anika had a lot to tell her father.

"Daddy! Daddy! That a bad man!" she sobbed, resting her head against Jane's neck, refusing to look at the now prone Stockman.

"I know pumpkin, but he's not going to hurt you anymore. You were so brave and so smart to hide in the oven. Wait 'til I tell Mummy how brave you were sweetie!" Patrick whispered into her ear. On the point of collapse, he just wanted to hold his precious daughter forever, but they weren't safe yet.

"Now can you do something for me KiKi? Can you run back to the house and hide in your special corner in your bedroom until Uncle Cho and Mummy get here?" he instructed her. Jane had always feared for Anika's safety, so he had built a safe room for her inside her closet. Only a handful of people close to Teresa and Patrick knew of its existence.

"No! I be wif you Daddy!" Anika wailed, clinging even tighter to her wonderful father. After everything that had happened to her, there was no way she was going to leave her Daddy.

"And I want to be with you Anika, but until Uncle Cho gets here, this man can still hurt you. Do as I say and I'll come and get you really soon baby!" he ordered her, easing her down to the ground.

Anika looked at Stockman's body and felt frightened again. Daddy said this man could still be mean to her. That was a scary idea. Daddy was the smartest man in the world, and she believed him.

"Please KiKi, run to your safe spot and stay there until we come and let you out. I promise it will be soon!" Patrick encouraged her, kissing her cheek and giving her a last hug. "Now go!" he said, giving her a gentle push.

Anika took off at a run, only stopping to turn and gaze at her unsteady Daddy one last time before she gained speed and ran up the incline towards the old cabin. With relief, Jane turned and grabbed Stockman's wrists, using the binding from Anika's wrists to tie his together. As Jane bent to his task, Stockman suddenly rose up and grappled Jane to the ground, hitting him repeatedly in the face. As the fight quickly went out of Patrick and he stayed down, Stockman pulled him by both of his arms and dragged him back towards the hedge. Wherever that miserable kid ran to, Stockman figured he'd find her soon enough. With some difficulty, he managed to climb through the bushes with Jane in tow and hauled him towards the water's edge on the other side. Down a slight slope towards the long grass by the water, he pulled the struggling man behind him, snorting with derision the whole time.

"Finally got the message didn't you Agent Jane? There's only one winner and one loser when you cross me. Guess which one you are?" he laughed as he reached the bottom of the hill.

The long grass turned to bullrushes next to the sandy shore, the last of the summer pond plants making their final attempt to live before winter descended. The smell of the wet grass and the approaching bullrushes rocked Jane to his core. In his semi-conscious state, it was his nightmare, playing out in real time. Stockman stepped into the cold pond and pulled Jane in behind him. Jane jerked with the shock of the frigid water and tried to slip out of Stockman's vise-like grip. When he was fully in the water, the icy cold roused Patrick to one last attempt at escaping. With his hands held tightly between Stockman's, and his generally poor health, Patrick was like a puppy being tossed around by a large German Shepherd. Stockman let go of his hands and grabbed Jane's face, pulling him down farther into the water. Jane looked up through the cloudy water and stared into Stockman's empty eyes. For a brief moment, he surfaced, gasping for breath.

"It's been fun Agent Jane" Stockman sneered into his face. "But time's up. Now will you finally die?" he laughed as he pushed Jane's head under the murky water again. Flailing with the shock of the cold, Jane tried to push himself to the surface, but Stockman stood astride him and used his considerable strength to keep Patrick submerged. Time sped by as Jane's freed hands grabbed blindly for Stockman's face. Stockman stayed beyond Jane's reach and smiled as his adversary began to convulse as he held his breath. Jane was losing his fight to remain conscious, his brain buzzing desperately for oxygen as his lungs felt ready to explode. He opened his eyes and saw the face of his murderer grow fuzzy and vague through the water. A few more half-hearted attempts to push Stockman off him took the last of Jane's strength, then he could hold his breath no longer. His lungs were screaming for air, and his heart felt like a hammering piston. As his body automatically tried to breath, he opened his mouth against his will and took a deep breath, inhaling pond water as he began to vomit and drown.

Teresa's SUV raced across her property, driving over the lawn as Cho approached from the other side. Down below the hill she could see Stockman standing in the shallow waters of the pond, holding what appeared to be a struggling man under the water. She slammed on the brakes when she reached the crest of the hill and took off running, crying out for Jane. Cho soon outpaced her and ran ahead, until he suddenly dropped to the ground on one knee and raised his gun.

Stockman saw the bubbles coming out of Jane's mouth and knew he was almost gone. One or two more minutes and he would be finished, then he'd run up to the house and kill Anika.

What was that?

Did someone call Jane's name? As a smile snaked across his face, he turned to look up the hill towards the cabin, already planning how to kill that child as quickly as possible. When he raised his head he only had time to see a man down on one knee, his hands raised in the air while Agent Teresa Jane ran screaming towards the pond.

"What the fuck?" Stockman wondered just before the bullet slammed into his forehead, dropping him where he stood. As he slowly sank below the surface of the water, Jane's body rose up, unfettered by Stockman's hands. Teresa ran down the hill screaming for her husband, legs pumping hard on the wet grass. Jane's body lay semi-submerged in the shallow water, unmoving and limp. Teresa plunged into the water and grasped Jane's still body, pulling him to the shore, the scene eerily similar to the time years ago when he had almost drowned during a CBI arson investigation. She dragged his limp body to the edge of the pond and turned Jane on his side to drain the water out of his lungs. An ambulance screamed at the top of the driveway as the police swarmed over the lawn. Cho reached Teresa and Patrick and began to do compressions to get Patrick breathing again. As he worked Teresa cried softly, seeing her husband dying in front of her, again. How could he drown twice? Cho pumped pumped pumped Patrick's chest, pump pump pump...

Paramedics arrived and took over from Cho. As they worked on Patrick, Cho took Teresa aside and sat her down on the grassy slope, holding her shivering body close to his.

"Anika…" she whispered, numb with shock. "Where is she?"

Cho looked into the dark pond and shuddered. Would they have to drag the pond for her little body? This day could still end up with both of the people Teresa loved the most dead.

"We'll find her Teresa. We will" he told her with false certainty.

The paramedics had managed to expel as much water as possible from Jane's lungs and were massaging his heart, trying to pull him back from the edge of death. As the compressions gained momentum, Cho and Teresa watched in fearful silence, each praying for their dear friend and lover to open his eyes. Ahead of them the police had waded into the pond and were retrieving Stockman's body to have it bagged and taken to the morgue. Cho handed his gun over to the lead FBI agent standing by his side for the investigation to come, but he stayed with Teresa, willing Jane to wake up.

"I've got a pulse!" a voice shouted. Teresa leapt to her feet and clung to Cho as the medical team worked to keep Jane alive.

"Getting stronger...he's breathing on his own!" a voice cheered. Teresa hugged Cho and ran over to Patrick to see for herself that he was alive. Jane suddenly convulsed in a spasm of heavy coughing, throwing up even more filthy pond water. As he was guided back onto the stretcher, he moaned in pain from his facial injuries and his newly torn surgical site. Teresa stared at him with concern. He still wasn't out of the woods. His near drowning could still have extremely serious side effects.

"How is he?" she asked cautiously.

"He's a tough guy, fighting hard to stay alive" the paramedic told her. "Another minute in the water and he would have been gone. We need to warm him up and get him to the hospital, but so far, he's holding his own" he said, vague but hopeful.

Teresa grabbed Patrick's cold hand and walked with him as the paramedics took his stretcher up the hill. When they reached the ambulance, Patrick opened his eyes and stared at his wife in bewilderment. Where did she come from? Why was he all wet? Then he remembered everything.

"Stockman?" he said, unsure of the outcome of his fight with his child's kidnapper.

"Stockman's dead. Cho shot him as he was trying to drown you Patrick. Did you see Anika? Is she…" Teresa dared not ask if Anika was in the water too.

"Safe room, the house…" Patrick mumbled before he closed his eyes again in exhaustion.

"Ma'am? We have to get him to the hospital. Please…" the paramedic said gently.

"Oh...ok..sure. I'll follow you soon" Teresa said distractedly. As Jane was put into the ambulance and it drove away, Teresa sprinted to the house and burst through the front door, screaming Anika's name.

She ran into the small pink bedroom at the back of the cabin and wrenched open the closet door, spying a small door behind the stuffed toys. She typed in a key code and pulled a hidden latch to open the door. As she bent down to look inside, a small face appeared, tear stained but calm.

"Mummy?"

"KiKi! Oh baby, come out and let me give you a hug!" Teresa cried, her arms stretched out to receive her little girl. Anika was out of the safe room and into her mother's arms before another second passed.

"Mummy!" KiKi cried, so happy and scared and relieved all at the same time. "Where Daddy go?"

"Daddy is on his way to the hospital to see a doctor, then he can come home with us. Shall we go and see him?" Teresa asked, standing up with KiKi in her arms, dripping pond water on the soft carpeting. She wasn't sure she would ever put her daughter down again. She held onto her little girl, rocking her back and forth like a baby.

Heavy footsteps behind her made Teresa spin around in alarm, but it was Cho, beaming a smile of thankfulness that his Godchild was safe in her mother's arms.

"Cho, can you take us to the hospital? I'm not sure I can drive right now" Teresa's quavering voice said through her tears.

"It would be my honour. Hello Button!" Cho said as he ruffled Anika's hair.

"Uncle Cho!" she said, reaching out for his grinning face. "Daddy hit that bad man!" she said with pride.

"Your Daddy did a good job. Shall we go see him?" he asked, walking out of the room with Teresa beside him.

"Yeah! Go see Daddy!" Anika agreed, clinging steadily to Teresa, not sure if she would ever let go as well.

"Why don't you get into some dry clothes before we go to the hospital. You'll feel better Teresa" Cho suggested.

Teresa looked down at herself in wonder and realized she was soaked, shivering. She had been running on adrenaline and so far, hadn't realized she was so wet.

"Ok, but then we go" she agreed, running into her bedroom at the back of the house. Anika wandered over to the fireplace and grabbed her alligator, cuddling it with love.

"Do you want to take Teddy with you to the hospital to see Daddy?" Cho asked the little girl.

"Teddy kiss Daddy" Anika said with a serious face. She knew how to make him all better.

"Daddy would like that."

Teresa reappeared, dressed quickly in soft jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. She was going for comfort, not style.

Cho guided Teresa and KiKi to his SUV then spoke quickly to the lead agent outside the house. He would need to be debriefed as to how the shooting occurred, but for now, Cho was still in charge and he needed to take Teresa and KiKi to see Patrick. As soon as he was cleared to leave, he got behind the wheel and sped away, leaving the local cops and FBI to secure the scene and bag evidence. As they drove towards the hospital, Cho had to broach a terrible subject.

"Teresa...listen...when we get to the hospital, we'll have to get Anika checked out by a doctor. We don't know if Stockman hurt her" Cho said diplomatically, but Teresa knew what he was getting at. Did Stockman sexually assault her beautiful baby while he held her hostage? Teresa didn't dare to look at Cho as this ugly realization sank in. Saving Patrick, then finding Anika had been her sole focus, and now that both were accomplished, the ugly possibility of a sexual assault against sweet KiKi hit her full force. Trusting but vulnerable Anika might have been sullied, used, manipulated for that evil man's pleasure. As the visualization of that possible outcome raged through her mind Teresa tried to hold back tears, but one or two escaped her watery eyes and slid down her dirty cheek. KiKi lay against her mother's chest, sucking her thumb in contentment, unaware of this new horror that her Mummy had to deal with. As she raised her head to look at her mother, Anika saw her tears and gently lifted her head to kiss Teresa on the chin.

"It OK Mummy. No cry" she said so innocently. Then she raised Teddy the Alligator to give her mother alligator kisses.

Teresa had to smile at Anika's sincere attempt to cheer her up and wiped her face with her palm.

"OK KiKi, no more crying. Everything is fine now, right baby?" she smiled, trying to be upbeat for her confused toddler.

"Teddy fix Mummy" KiKi agreed with certainty.

Cho reached over and stroked the back of Anika's head while he looked straight ahead, close to tears himself at the idea that this precious child could have been assaulted. They'd soon know.


	40. Deliver Us From Evil

Whew! Things sure were tense there for a while!

Dead Ringer

Chapter 40

Deliver Us From Evil

Jane lay on the stretcher in the ambulance in a sort of twilight state of grogginess, brought about by his newly acquired injuries and exhaustion. He was told to be quiet, relax, not over-exert himself when the doctor allowed him to go home from the hospital early this morning, but none of those rules had been followed. Emotionally, a great calm now flowed through him even as his pain increased with the motion of the ambulance. Stockman was dead, Teresa said Cho killed him. Anika was safe, and so was Teresa. Stockman had ultimately failed in his multiple attempts to destroy Patrick and his family. Who was the winner now?

As he lay with his eyes closed and let the paramedics work on him, a slight smile perked up the corner of his mouth. He was alive. Stockman was dead. Now he could try to rest. He was shivering in his wet clothes, his teeth chattering as his adrenaline rush ended and the chills set in. Once the paramedics had finished their appraisal of him, they gently stripped the wet clothes off Patrick and covered him with a sheet and a thermal blanket to reduce the chance of hypothermia. With the crinkly, space age blanket in place, Jane gradually began to warm up and was able to doze.

Cho soon caught up with the ambulance and followed it to Austin General Hospital. KiKi was in the back seat in Teresa's arms, breaking the law with no child car seat, but for once, Cho would look the other way. The ambulance drove up to the emergency entrance and the paramedics quickly off-loaded their patient through a side door to get to a doctor quickly. Cho flashed his FBI badge and got Teresa and Anika through without the usual hassle at the front desk. Soon Teresa was outside a curtained room while Jane was examined by a doctor. Time moved so slowly now after the chaos at the pond. Was he going to be alright or was the water in Patrick's lungs going to lead to a secondary infection? Could he still die from 'near drowning' now that he was out of the water? Pneumonia and acute respiratory distress syndrome could result from his suffocation under the water. So many terrible thoughts rolled through Teresa's mind now that she had Patrick back. Suddenly the curtain opened and a doctor stepped towards Teresa and Cho.

"Mrs. Jane?"

"Yes, I'm Patrick's wife, how is he?"

"He's as well as can be expected considering what he's been through. He's very cold and in pain. We want to admit him and keep an eye on his lung function for the night and into tomorrow. Complications of a near drowning can show up for the next 24 hours. In his weakened condition pneumonia would be especially dangerous. His surgical site needs some repairs but all things considered, it's healing well despite the trauma he suffered today. He took a pretty good beating and will be covered in bruises, so don't be alarmed by the colour of his face by tomorrow. We'll do a CT scan to make sure there's no brain trauma as well. I'll get a bed ready for him upstairs. Would you like to sit with him before we move him?" he asked kindly, seeing how distraught Teresa was at this litany of possible complications.

"Yes! Thank you...we both need to see Patrick" Teresa said, holding Anika close.

"OK, just for a few minutes then we'll take him up to the 3rd floor. See you soon" the doctor said before he went off to make arrangements for Jane's re-admission.

Cho stepped up and whispered in Teresa's ear.

"I'll find a doctor to examine Anika as soon as you're done with Patrick."

"Thanks Cho. I want to be with Anika when she gets checked out. She's been through enough with strangers lately."

Cho nodded in agreement then left her alone to see her husband. Much as he wanted peace and quiet for little Anika, she might have been the victim of a sexual assault, and as the Senior Agent, he had to cover that aspect of the case as well. With a grim expression, he went looking for just the right person to examine his Godchild. He was upset, his gut twisting with fear that Anika had been reduced to a sexual toy for Stockman's pleasure. He could only imagine Teresa's distress, and she had to hold it together for Jane's sake. She was an inspiration to Cho today.

Teresa stepped behind the curtain and beheld her sleeping husband. This morning he had been so happy to be in his own house again, seemingly over the worst of his ordeal physically. If she had only known how close Stockman had been to their sanctuary in the country, she never would have left the house. If only…

"Patrick" Teresa said softly, kissing his cheek. Anika indicated she wanted to kiss him too, so Teresa bent down and let Anika put her chubby hands on each side of Jane's face and kissed him with a typical sloppy 2 ½ year old kiss.

"Daddy! Wake up!" Anika shouted, much to Teresa's distress.

"Shhhh baby, let's let Daddy sleep some more" Teresa suggested, but Jane wearily opened his eyes and beheld the most wonderful sight. There by his side was his beautiful, strong wife and his perfect daughter.

"Hi" he said softly with a grin, his face aching from Stockman's punches, but he couldn't have cared less. "How're my girls?" he said, reaching out to touch them, to make sure they were real.

"We're fine, now that you're back with us" Teresa said, trying not to cry again in front of KiKi.

Jane looked around the small space he occupied and realized with chagrin he was back in the hospital after an incredibly short time. Also, he was wrapped in a shiny golden foil blanket. Strange.

"Soo...what happened?" he asked, unsure of the events that occurred after he was dragged into the pond. Talking triggered a torrent of coughing and Jane spit phlegm and water into a basin that Teresa held out for him. When he calmed down, he closed his eyes until he caught his breath. Anika watched him with alarm. She needed to make her Daddy all better.

Teresa eyed Anika, who was now patting Patrick's face with her dirty hand, and knew some details of the story would have to wait until she was out of the room. So she spoke in a way that wouldn't upset Anika.

"That bad man is gone Patrick. Gone far far away and he can't ever come back. Uncle Jason figured out where Stockman was bringing KiKi and told Cho, who called me. You slowed Stockman down long enough for KiKi to get to safety in the house, and fortunately, we got to Stockman before...you know…" she said cryptically. Anika was listening, but as long as she heard her mother say the bad man was gone, she was content.

"He bad Daddy!" KiKi said with indignance. "He hit KiKi!" she said, pretending to hit her own face with her small hand.

Patrick's face clouded with this news of abuse. He really looked at his daughter now and noticed large finger sized bruises forming on her upper arms and a red, palm shaped bruise across her face. That monster had beaten his child! God only knows what else he did that KiKi had not spoken about yet. Teresa looked at Jane with sad eyes and knew what was going through his mind. She had to get KiKi over to the doctor, fast.

"I'm going to get her checked out Patrick, but she's fine, really. The bruises will heal and so will she. She's incredibly resilient" she said with certainty.

"I know, just like her mother" Jane said quietly, taking her free hand.

"Just like her father" Teresa replied, kissing his lips once again.

"I kiss Daddy too!" KiKi said, wiggling in Teresa's arms to get close to her Daddy again.

"Come here Pumpkin" Jane said, raising his arms up to hold her. Unfortunately that caused another coughing fit. It slowed him down, but once he was settled, he held Anika close. She wriggled around with happiness at being in his big arms again.

"Gently Anika, Daddy has a very big boo boo on his face and his tummy, remember?"

"Teddy kiss him better" KiKi said with authority, holding the stuffed toy next to Jane's face. She knew how to make him all better. A moment later the curtain opened and a nurse stepped inside their small space.

"Sorry, but it's time to take Mr. Jane upstairs."

"Again…"Jane sighed.

"Just for tonight, I'm sure" Teresa said, sad that he had to be left behind when she went home tonight with Anika.

"I be wif you" Anika said, sure she could sleep with her Daddy in this strange place.

"I think Mummy needs you to stay with her tonight in our big house, otherwise she will be all alone" Patrick said to convince KiKi to go home without him. "The nurses will take good care of me here until I come home again" he added with as much enthusiasm as he could fake.

KiKi turned to study her mother's face. Teresa was wearing an exaggerated pout, as if going home without KiKi would be the worst thing ever...which it was.

"Stay with me sweetie, then we'll come back for Daddy" Teresa suggested again.

Ankia was torn. How could she choose between both parents when she had missed them both so terribly? She reached out to Patrick and hugged him tight.

"I go home" she said, all business. "Here" she said, handing Patrick her alligator. "Teddy be wif Daddy" she explained to Teresa. Now she knew he'd be OK here without them. "Be good Daddy!"

"OK, I will." Patrick kissed his daughter again, then turned his attention to Teresa. "I'll be fine. As long as you two are safe, I can rest easy. I'll be home tomorrow."

Teresa's eyes filled with tears as she looked down on Patrick's rapidly bruising face and bloody lip. He had been willing to sacrifice himself for Anika, and almost died saving her. Teresa couldn't have loved him more at that moment. He gripped the silly stuffed alligator like a talisman.

"I love you" she said, holding KiKi tight, but wanting to climb into Patrick's arms. "I'll miss you tonight."

"Ma'am? We really have to get your husband upstairs" the nurse interrupted.

Teresa nodded numbly and stepped away. At a signal from the nurse, an orderly entered the room and helped to pull Jane's gurney out into the hallway. Teresa walked along with the group and said her final goodbyes as Jane disappeared into an elevator, and then he was gone.

Teresa no longer had to put on a strong facade for Jane. The reality of how close she came to losing him and her daughter today hit her hard, and she began to crumble. She leaned against the wall crying silently, hoping Anika wouldn't notice, but the little girl missed nothing.

Taking her mother's face in her hands, Anika kissed her chin. "No cry Mummy. It OK."

Teresa smiled at her beautiful, hopeful, resilient child and wiped her face with a free hand. If she was going to cry, it would have to wait until the night, after Anika was in bed. Then, she could fall apart.

"Silly me. OK, no more crying. Time to get you checked out and then we can go home."

"Baff with duckie?" Anika asked, hoping to play in her mother's big bathtub with her favourite toys.

"Sure, a bath with your duck family. Then something to eat and maybe a nap, sound good?"

"Yup!" Anika said happily.

Cho appeared at the end of the hall, with a young woman in a white coat beside him. He nodded at Teresa, and she knew it was time to determine if Anika had been sexually assaulted. God, this just never ended…

Teresa walked towards Cho and the doctor, holding KiKi tightly, as if her arms could shield Anika against any bad news gleaned from the exam.

"Agent Jane? I'm Doctor Allison Kailen. And I understand this is Anika" the doctor smiled.

Teresa smiled weakly and said hello, glancing up at Cho with an unsaid question in her eyes. Who was this woman and was she going to be kind to Anika?

Cho understood. "Teresa, Dr. Kailen works with kids who've been through what KiKi has suffered. She's the right person for Anika."

"I understand your concerns Agent Jane, but I've examined many many kids who may or may not have been assaulted. This will be quick and I'll keep it light" the woman assured Teresa. As for KiKi, she was busy playing with a twirly light stick the doctor had given her.

"Look Mummy! Look!" KiKi said with joy, making the globe at the end of the striped stick twirl and light up like fireworks.

"Shall we?" the doctor said, pointing towards a small examining room.

"Sure...but I stay with her" Teresa said, fiercely protective of her daughter now.

"Of course."

Cho took this as his cue to leave. "Be a good girl for Uncle Cho Anika" he said with a smile, then he kissed her cheek and put his reassuring hand on Teresa's shoulder.

"I'm going to go and check on Patrick, stay with him for a while. See you later. I'll drive you home when you finish visiting Patrick."

"Bye...thanks Cho" Teresa smiled, loving him for his stalwart friendship and loyalty.

Cho walked away and Teresa turned towards the gaily decorated examination room, used specifically for traumatized children. With a heavy heart, she relinquished her baby to the doctor as the door slowly closed.

The examination lasted 40 minutes. Anika cooperated with the doctor as she no longer felt threatened and her mother was by her side. The twirling light stick Anika played with was a wonderful distraction as well. Colourful Disney characters danced across the ceiling in the room, giving her something else to talk about and focus on while the doctor did her physical exam. Of equal if not more importance, was a conversation the doctor would have with Anika, asking simple, non-leading questions about what Stockman had done to Anika the short time she was with him. Due to Anika's young age, the questions had to be basic and to the point, but her limited vocabulary dictated how she framed her answers.

It became clear 15 minutes into the conversation that Stockman had slapped Anika, shaken her and thrown her to the floor, but he had not paid any attention to her sexually. She seemed mystified by any questions pertaining to her private parts and whether or not Stockman had touched her there. Over time, when her language skills improved with age, she could add detail to her story of captivity, but soon after the doctor first began her examination of the child, she had good news.

"I cannot find any signs of sexual abuse, no bleeding or tearing of the hymen. She has no bruising or stretching of tissue. There was no tenderness and she didn't flinch when I touched her. Since she was with her kidnapper for such a short time, any sexual assault would still leave traces, but there are none at all. The way she describes the man, he was violent and scary, but the most he did to her was slap her and frighten her" the doctor concluded.

"So, she's going to be OK?" Teresa said with relief, holding a very tired Anika close to her chest.

"I'll send some samples to the lab to make absolutely sure there wasn't a sexual assault. Time will reveal if there is emotional trauma there, but from what I see and hear, she wasn't touched, but she was very frightened. For that, you might consider some counselling for her down the road" the doctor assured her.

"Oh thank God" Teresa sighed, slumping into her chair. "Thank you Doctor."

"My pleasure. You have a very strong little girl Agent Jane" the doctor smiled, so happy that for once, she didn't have terrible news to destroy a young couple.

As the doctor got up to leave, Teresa remained sitting, holding her now yawning child. Anika had not slept well ever since she was taken by Stockman at the school. Her days and nights were filled with stress and fear, hunger and cold. She had done everything right, instinctively, to stay alive. She was a true Jane.

"How about we go say goodbye to Daddy upstairs and then go home Pumpkin?" Teresa asked KiKi.

Anika was nestled comfortably against her mother, safe, warm, unafraid. Going home to the only home she had ever known sounded wonderful. Seeing Daddy again was an unexpected bonus.

"I see Daddy and Teddy" KiKi agreed, mentioning her favourite stuffed toy, the alligator. She had many Teddy Bears, but for some reason, the soft, toothy alligator had won her heart. And his name was Teddy.

"Sounds good. Let's go and find Daddy and Uncle Cho."


	41. Denouement

Just a few more chapters to go. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this story and make comments. It means the world to amateur writers like me.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 41

Denouement

Teresa and Anika found their way to the floor where Jane now lay in a bed by the window, gazing out at Austin's skyline. Much to his annoyance, a new IV had been inserted into the back of his hand and antibiotics were once again flooding his system. After his submersion in the dirty pond water, Jane's doctor didn't want to take any chances of him picking up another raging infection. Cho sat next to Patrick, explaining what had happened to the laptop and how the IT department had scrambled to repair it once it burst into flames.

"I'll find Jed and thank him once I get out of here" Jane said, awed by how everyone had worked tirelessly to bring his daughter back to the arms of his family.

"Wylie stayed up all night, trying to get the history off that miserable laptop. He found the proof that Stockman had discovered where you lived. From there it was a quick leap to figure out he planned to drown Anika on your own property" Cho explained.

Patrick smiled sadly at his old friend. "That sounds like something Stockman would love. Theatrical, dramatic, killing a child in her own pond while her father waits in the house on the hill. Sounds like a gothic novel."

"Except you ruined it for Stockman. You prevented the drowning Jane. It was you" Cho emphasized.

Patrick shook his head in disagreement. "No. I just slowed him down until you got there with the cavalry. I hear you took him out with one shot from halfway up the hill. Never let me make a snide remark about you and your guns ever again" Jane said with sincerity.

Cho laughed at that. Patrick hated guns, always did, always would, but hearing him give thanks for Cho's excellent marksmanship sounded good.

"I had no other options. Policy is that I have to try to talk him into surrendering, but he would have just kept you underwater while he debated the issue. We didn't have time to negotiate, we needed to get you out of the pond before you drowned. I'll take whatever heat comes down from Internal Affairs about shooting Stockman" Cho explained.

"You did the right thing Cho, no question. Another minute and it would have been too late for me" Patrick agreed. "I can talk to IA. When I'm done with them they'll award you the Nobel Peace Prize" Patrick offered, smiling with certainty that nothing bad would befall Cho due to his actions.

Cho laughed at that idea. "Not necessary, but thanks anyway. I have some other issues I have to deal with."

"Such as?"

"Such as...I'm going to take steps to have your home disappear off Google Earth. Any other mention of your personal data will be scrubbed too. It was too easy for Stockman to find you Patrick. We don't want a perp doing this again" Cho said wisely.

"Thanks. I moved out into the country to keep my family safe, and Google almost got us killed" Jane muttered.

A knock on the door alerted the men that their quiet talk had ended and a child's voice squealed with excitement.

"Daddy!"

Teresa put Anika down and she ran over to the bed, trying to climb up to sit next to Patrick.

Cho bent down and picked her up, then passed her over to Jane who reached for her with hungry arms.

"Careful of Daddy's hand!" Teresa warned the eager little girl. Anika gazed curiously at Patrick's hand and the needle in it.

"To make me all better" Patrick explained. Anika just nodded and proceeded to ignore the IV line now that she'd been shown.

"Hello again Pumpkin" he grinned, rubbing his whiskery face into Anika's tummy. She dissolved into fits of giggles, while Teresa came over and stood by Cho, who had decided it was time he left to give them some privacy. He'd make some calls before driving Teresa and Anika home, then, he'd get back to the bullpen. There was much to do back at the office and he needed to submit to an interview about his role in the death of one Mark Stockman.

"I'll see all of you soon. Get well Patrick. Teresa, Anika, I'll drive you home whenever you're ready."

"Thanks Cho."

Anika waved goodbye to Uncle Cho but she never left Patrick's side, where she was now snuggled as close to him as she could get. She gazed up at his face and frowned. Patrick had a large cut in the corner of his mouth that was red and ugly. Her eyes traced the bloom of bruises across her father's face from Stockman's frenzied attack. She raised her small hand and patted his cheek, understanding that her Daddy had been hurt somehow. Turning to her mother, Anika grew serious and told her the bad news.

"Daddy gots a boo boo Mummy."

"I know sweetie."

"I gots a boo boo too" she continued. "See?" she added, raising her arm up to show to her parents. There she pointed out a large black bruise spreading across her soft upper arm, ending in fingermarks. She was unaware that her face was also turning colours.

"Well then why don't you give Daddy a kiss to make his boo boo all better, and he can give your boo boo a kiss as well" Teresa said sensibly, but horrified at the evident abuse her child had suffered at the hands of that monster.

"Okay…" KiKi agreed, kissing Patrick's chin tenderly.

"I feel much better now" Patrick smiled at his daughter. "Thank you. Now let me make you feel all better." He leaned down slowly and carefully and placed a gentle kiss on Anika's face and arm.

"How's that Pumpkin?"

"Good!"

Teresa leaned over and kissed Patrick, ruffling Anika's hair on the way.

"Now everybody can get better and come home soon, right Daddy?" she said, happy to see Anika feel so in control of the situation.

"For sure Mummy" Patrick smiled, helping Anika make the light stick spin. Turning to Teresa, he finally asked the question that had screamed for an answer ever since his family walked in his room.

"What did the examination tell us?" Patrick said softly, not wanting Anika to know what he was talking about.

"She's fine. No sexual assault, no evidence of it physically or verbally."

Patrick smiled deeply, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. His perfect child was untouched by that brute. Teresa continued.

"Emotionally, she's still got some healing to do, and more will come out of her about her time with Stockman over the next few days and weeks, but for now, we can just get back to being a family again" Teresa said simply. "Maybe some counselling…"

Jane looked away from Anika and stared at Teresa. "For Anika or for me?"

Teresa smiled sadly. "Both, maybe. We'll see how both of you heal over the next little while. Would you go to counselling if the nightmares continue?"

Jane looked back at his contented daughter playing with her light stick. He needed to be the best man he could be for her and her mother. Hell, he needed to be the best version of himself for himself as well.

"Yes. I'll go if I can't get over what Stockman did to us, I promise."

"Thank you Patrick" she smiled, glad to see the healing had already begun.

"Maybe now the nightmares will stop" Teresa said hopefully.

"We'll know soon enough."

Patrick played with the light stick, much to Anika's amusement, glad to have a distraction. There would be time to discuss Stockman and his attempt to kill he and Anika. For Patrick, he had to come to terms with how eerily close his dreams had foretold the reality of Stockman's actions at the pond. Much as he denied any psychic abilities, this time his dreams had been frighteningly prescient and that fascinated him. Why did he see so much of what really happened? Was it just a natural outcome of suggestion? Water, reeds, wet grass...they could be found near any large body of water, not just his pond...but still…

The next several hours in the hospital would give him a chance to think it through without the worry of where Anika was and if she was safe. He also wanted to visit with the real Dr. David Litchfield, but not with Anika in the room. David looked so much like Stockman it would confuse and terrify Anika all over again.

"Make it go Daddy!" Anika laughed, seeing the light stick spin faster and faster. Jane had to admit, the toy was mesmerizing. As the three of them played and laughed, two visitors were making their way to Patrick's room.

A light knock on the door and a cheery "hello" alerted them to Benny's arrival. And she brought a friend.

"May I come in?" she called.

"Benny! Marfa!" KiKi screamed in delight. Her day just got better and better. The door opened and the smiling women came in. Anika stopped smiling for a moment when she saw her nanny's black eyes and heavily bandaged nose. Teresa gave Martha and Benny hugs of welcome.

"Oh please, come in and sit here!" Teresa said happily. She stood up, overwhelmed with happiness that Benny had survived her encounter with Stockman.

Benny boldly bent down to kiss Patrick on the forehead, not caring if he wanted it or not, it was done. Martha just smiled and nodded her greetings to the man. She was far more reserved than the extroverted, outgoing Benita.

"And how is my big girl KiKi?" Benny said, reaching out with her good hand to run her fingers through the child's hair. KiKi eyed the bright pink cast on Benny's broken arm and touched it tentatively.

"Benny gots a boo boo Daddy" she informed him solemnly.

"I know, she has two boo boo's sweetie. Her arm is broken and she has a broken nose too, so we have to be very gentle with Benny OK KiKi?" Patrick told her.

"OK" the child echoed, amazed that Benny and Daddy both had so many injuries. "I kiss it better" she said, leaning forward to kiss the cast on Benita's wrist. As she reached to kiss the broken nose, Patrick pulled her back.

"I think the kiss will travel up to Benny's nose. We don't want to hurt it with kisses KiKi" he said before his daughter hurt Benny even more, but with love.

"How long will you have wear that cast?" Teresa asked when Benny sat down.

"The doctor said six to eight weeks, but we'll see" the woman said. "Pretty soon it will be annoying, but right now, it really helps support my wrist. I would worry about taking care of Anika, but Martha called and told me she will be happy to fill in more until I can get back to work. Between the two of us, KiKi will be taken care of."

"Just call and tell me when you need me Teresa" Martha said, happy to help out at this difficult time.

"Thanks, to both of you. I'll call and make some arrangements for the days we need someone to pick Anika up from school again. For now, we just want to stay home, together" Teresa explained. Having two wonderful babysitters made her life so much easier.

"But how are you Teresa? Agent Cho told me the man is….gone" Benny said diplomatically, aware of KiKi listening.

"I'm alright, a little shook up, and exhausted, and KiKi is tired but physically unharmed. As for Patrick" Teresa said with a sad smile, "he's right back where he was yesterday."

Benny turned to commiserate with Patrick. "I'm so sorry you ended up back here" Benita said, knowing how much Mr. Jane would want to be going home with his family.

"It's fine. I'll be home soon. Better I make sure it's for good this time because there's no way I'm coming back a third time" he said seriously. "I miss my wife, my daughter, my bed, my house...everything" he said.

"Well if you do as the doctor says, I'm sure you'll be home very soon. I just wanted to say hello and tell you how very happy I am that all of you are alright" Benny said as she stood up to go.

"There will be fresh pie on your doorstep tomorrow morning" Martha added, smiling at Patrick. Both ladies winked at each other. Time to go. They knew this little family needed to be alone without outsiders interrupting right now.

"Thank you for coming, we really appreciate it" Teresa said, hugging the women again.

"My pleasure. Anika, take good care of your mother and father" Benny said as she kissed her goodbye.

"Yup!" KiKi said happily.

"See you soon KiKi" Martha said, kissing the little girl on the forehead.

"Bye ladies, see you soon" Patrick smiled, happy they had come to visit. Once they were gone, Teresa resumed her spot beside the bed and KiKi snuggled against Patrick again. Over the course of the next hour, nurses came to check up on Jane but no one asked Teresa or Anika to leave. The word must have gone out to the staff to leave them alone. By the time Patrick and Anika were both yawning, Teresa took that as the sign it was time to go. It was only early afternoon, but so much had happened this morning it felt like a full day had passed.

"Come on sleepy head, time to go home and have a bath, something to eat, then naptime for you" Teresa said to Anika, who didn't argue but reached out for her mother to pick her up. She had been awake early and suffered trauma enough to put her to sleep for several hours.

"And as for you, time for you to sleep as well. You look tired" she said as she leaned down to kiss Jane again. "Do you mind if we go?" she added, feeling guilty leaving him alone.

"No..it's fine...I'm worn out too" Patrick admitted. What he needed more than anything was a full night's sleep without nightmares or psychic visitations from beyond the grave. For one night, he needed some peace. But evening was still hours away. Hours he could use thinking, remembering.

"Come and see me later?" he asked.

"As soon as KiKi is up" Teresa assured her husband. KiKi was waiting for her mother by the chair, busy with her spinning toy.

"I love you Patrick" Teresa said softly as she kissed him deeply. "I want you back in my bed" she added, missing his body wrapped around hers.

"And you expect me to sleep now with that in mind? You're a cruel woman!" Jane teased, kissing her back. "It's alright. I need to rest. It was quite a day" he said with understatement.

"OK. Be good and I'll be back soon. Say bye bye to Daddy" Teresa instructed Anika.

"Bye Daddy!' the child echoed, waving as she walked with her mother towards the door. Both turned for one last look at Patrick in the bed before they walked out, leaving him alone once again. Normally, Patrick would sigh with resignation at this point, plotting his escape from the hospital by any method, but today, he lay back with relief, and hope.

Stockman was dead, in a cold morgue, naked as the day he was born with a tag around his big toe. No one would mourn him. No one would come and claim his body. No one would arrange a funeral or weep over his body. No one would care now that he was gone.

There couldn't have been a better outcome.

An hour later a nurse came in to check on Patrick. She added a light sedative to his IV line on the recommendation of the doctor. This patient had been through a terrible ordeal and needed to rest. And that, for once in his life, is exactly what Patrick did, without nightmares, without dreams of any sort, without interruption and without fear.

He slept the sleep of one delivered from his enemies.


	42. Love and Bacaroni

Well I intended to publish a chapter sooner than this but my computer crashed. Finally got it up and running again so here we go. Just a short chapter and then maybe one more. Thanks for reading.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 42

Love and Bacaroni

Teresa and Anika took the elevator down to the main lobby and found Cho at a table, talking on his cellphone. As she approached, he ended his call and stood up to escort them to his car.

"That was David Litchfield. He identified the body at the morgue but wants nothing to do with his cousin after today" Cho told Teresa. "Can't say I blame him after all he suffered."

"Me neither. I think Patrick will want to spend some time with David when he feels stronger. As long as Anika doesn't have to see him that is" Teresa added. "David was a big help to Patrick back at the cement factory."

Cho opened the car door for Teresa as she and Anika slid onto the back seat for the quick drive away from the hospital. The trip home to her cabin in the country was strange. Everything looked so normal as she gazed out of the backseat window. People sped by, in a hurry to get wherever they needed to be as quickly as possible, without a thought as their own safety. Teresa knew better what could happen in the blink of an eye. You could lose everyone you held dear - gone in a twinkling. And now she was being driven home to spend a "normal" night with Anika while her husband rested in downtown Austin. It was all so surreal. Teresa felt overwhelming relief that her daughter sat beside her with the lightstick tight in her grip, any lingering fears about her abduction temporarily supplanted by a shiny new toy. Anika babbled non-stop, relishing the joy of having her mother back after a confusing 2 day absence. Teresa was thrilled to have her baby back, but sad that her husband was once again alone in a hospital room. Even more disconcerting was the idea of returning to a home which was now a crime scene.

Cho's forensic team had finished gathering evidence hours ago, but when the FBI SUV pulled in to the long driveway leading up the hill to the house, Teresa noticed the yellow crime scene tape all around the pond and barbeque, still fluttering in the fall breeze. Normally she would think nothing of it, its presence typical of hundreds of crimes she had investigated. But this was different. This was her home, her sanctuary, and Mark Stockman had violated it. Cho parked the vehicle beside the house and stepped out, gazing down the hill at the pond where Stockman had almost drowned Patrick this morning. Getting out of the car with Anika, Teresa followed his eyes and stared at the cold water, still so beautiful this late in the autumn. An involuntary shudder rippled through her body as she remembered seeing Stockman straddling Patrick's struggling body, holding his head underneath the surface of the water. KiKi started to walk towards the house, then turned around to face the pond below her, like Uncle Cho and Mummy. A frown creased her face as she studied the shimmering water.

"Bad man gone!" she stated in answer to a question no one had asked.

"He sure is" Teresa answered. "Gone very far away, forever and ever." She wanted to get inside the house and forget what happened here as soon as possible.

"No swim Mummy. Cold water" KiKi said solemnly as an afterthought before she started to walk towards the front steps. And that was that. A mean man wanted her to swim and Daddy had said it was too cold.

Teresa watched her brave little girl and finally smiled. Anika would get through this and with her simple faith in good people, she would soon forget all about that scary man, teaching her parents to do the same along the way.

Teresa and Patrick loved this piece of Eden, this slice of heaven on earth. Despite all that had happened here today, the pond still looked as lovely as ever, peaceful even, but then the garish yellow crime scene tape gave truth to the lie that all was well. Like a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, the police presence hurt beyond measure.

"Can we take this down Cho?" Teresa asked, indicating the fluttering yellow tape. "Before Patrick comes home?"

Cho nodded, understanding what it represented to his friends. "Why don't you get Anika settled while I pull it all down and throw it away?" he suggested. "Then I've really got to get back to the office."

"Thanks Cho. Come on Anika, let's go inside and get warmed up" Teresa said with a smile, grabbing her daughter's eager hand as she got pulled up the stairs to the front porch.

"Call me if you need anything" he said as he grabbed a fist full of yellow tape. Teresa unlocked her front door and felt a rush of peace overcome her as she stepped into her large old living room. This was home, safety, her nest. Anika ran through the house in a joyous examination of her safe place while Teresa watched her with love. How resilient children could be, so full of hope and joy at seeing the small things they loved. Anika ran from room to room, making sure it all looked just right. Yup, it all looked the same as before. Same toys, same bedroom, same bookshelf, same bathtub…

Bathtub!

"Baf now Mummy?" she called as she started to peel off her clothes. Taking a bath in her Mummy's big tub was a special treat, and Mummy had promised!

"OK Pumpkin. But first maybe we should eat something. Are you hungry?"

"Bacaroni?" KiKi asked eagerly, unable to pronounce macaroni.

"Sounds good to me. Bacaroni, coming right up!" Teresa said with a smile, reaching for the ingredients to her child's favourite lunch.

Waiting for her lunch proved difficult, but as soon as the food appeared on her special plate, KiKi grabbed her spoon and hungrily shovelled the warm rich pasta into her mouth. Teresa settled for a bit of food then made a cup of coffee. By the time her meal was finished, KiKi was drooping with fatigue.

"Baf now wif duckies?" she asked, determined to get into that big tub.

"Absolutely. Your ducks are waiting for you" Teresa smiled. All of these small but significant things would return Anika to a normal life, one filled with reassuring routines and favourite toys. As soon as the bath was filled with bubbles and toys, KiKi climbed in and began to play, singing to herself as she made her duck family swim back and forth across the ocean of bubbles. When KiKi's eyes finally began to get heavy with sleep, Teresa pulled the plug and wrapped Anika in a big white bath towel, cuddling her as she dried her off.

"Come on sweetie, time for a nap with your stuffies" Teresa said as she carried Anika into her bedroom. KiKi didn't argue for once, but rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Ten minutes later she was in her favourite pajamas, tucked into her little bed, surrounded by her welcoming stuffed toys.

"Have a good nap sweetie" Teresa said as she kissed Anika's warm rosy cheek. "When you wake up, we'll go back and visit with Daddy for a little while before bedtime tonight. Sound good?"

"Good" Anika yawned, already turning over to get comfortable in her bed. Before Teresa closed the door, Anika was fast asleep.

Walking back to the living room, Teresa felt the weight of the day begin to lift off her shoulders. She knew where her husband was, safe and well taken care of not too far away in Austin General Hospital. Hopefully this time tomorrow he'd be home once again. As for Anika, she was home again, asleep in her little bed. Only a few hours ago the child was still missing and in the hands of a psychopath. It was almost beyond belief that she had been rescued by Patrick at his weakest, willing to die for her. His courage staved off what would have been a quick and merciless murder of an innocent child. Thank God Cho threw caution to the wind and shot Stockman dead. Without those combined efforts, today would have been a tragedy of epic proportions.

Cup of steaming coffee in hand, Teresa sat on the sofa and rested her head back on the boomerang throw Patrick loved so much. The house showed his personality in every corner, smelled of him, gave off his loving vibes. Almost without noticing, Teresa began to smile as she ran her hand over the sofa cushions, the throw, Jane's sweater on the arm of the chair close by. This is what home felt like. It felt like love.

(Austin General Hospital - 5 pm)

Patrick had slept most of the afternoon thanks to the sedative in his IV, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn't tormented by nightmares or visions. As he slowly opened his eyes to the general noise of the nursing floor, he realized again where he was and why he was once again restricted to a hospital bed. Stockman was dead. Cho killed him. KiKi was home, safe, with her mother. Everyone who Jane loved and trusted had escaped Stockman's wrath. And he? Well he had dodged death one more time, very narrowly this time. Shaking his head at the way things turned out, he was grateful to be alive, really alive and able to go home to his family in a few more hours. His door opened and a nurse brought in a tray of food plus a good hot cup of tea. Teresa had left some of Jane's preferred tea bags with the staff with instructions to make him a really good cup of tea once he woke up.

"A special treat from your wife Mr. Jane!" the nurse said as she poured the tea from a stainless steel pot into his cup. Jane sat up and inhaled the scent of the warm liquid, then smiled broadly. Even though Teresa couldn't be with him, she'd found a way to make his day a little sweeter. He loved her so much it hurt.

"I hope you like tacos, nachos and pico de gallo" the nurse continued. "From Torchy's." She lifted the lid off his dinner plate dramatically and revealed a meal that could only have come from that wonderful Mexican restaurant.

Jane stared at the feast with surprise. He fully expected the usual bland hospital dreck for supper, but this was an amazing treat.

"How? Who did this?" Jane asked as he reached for a warm crisp taco.

"A Mr. Jason Wylie delivered it a few minutes ago. Said it would make your day" she smiled.

"Smart man. Did he stay to visit?"

"Sorry, no. He said he'd see you really soon" the nurse explained.

"I owe him a lunch when I get out of here" Jane grinned as he dipped a nacho chip into the pico. It was heavenly. The nurse left Jane to his meal and got back to work. Jane made his way through the meal like a starving man. The tea was liquid gold. By the time he was finished he was completely satisfied and full. He slipped out of bed and freshened himself up in the bathroom before Teresa came back with Anika. When he looked in the mirror, he was shocked at the colour of his face, mottled black and blue with fresh bruises. Stockman certainly knew how to beat a man. His midsection was stained with bruising as well. No wonder he felt extra tender around his abdomen. There was nothing he could do to hide the bruises, so he just washed and fixed his hair as well as he could. Tomorrow he'd take a long warm shower at home. Now all he had to do was wait for Teresa and Anika to come once visiting hours began and he could really relax. In the meantime, he made his way back to his bed and picked up his cell phone. He had a lot of people to call and thank for their part in helping his family today. But first, a call to Wylie to thank him for the fantastic Mexican feast tonight!


	43. Pocket Rocket

Well this is the last chapter of the story and I want to thank all of you for sticking with me on this bumpy ride. Thank you to everyone who took the time to review and comment. Your ideas and opinions are always welcome. I hope you enjoyed the way this story worked out. Who knows what I'll come up with next time? For all of my new readers, thank you for discovering this work. Try some of my other stories as well. Ok, onto the very last chapter. Bye for now.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 43

Pocket Rocket

Wylie got off the phone smiling from ear to ear. While it gave him real joy to surprise Jane with Mexican food tonight, he was even more pleased to hear from him personally so soon after his near death experience at the hands of Mark Stockman. Jane sounded good, like himself, only mellower. Was he on some serious medication or was it just that he was so happy to be alive? No matter, Jason was thrilled to have played his part in warning Teresa and Cho that Anika was going to be drowned in her own pond. He was on his way home after two very stressful days of near continuous work. He wanted a shower, a beer and a nap, not necessarily in that order!

(Austin General Hospital - 5:45pm)

Jane settled back onto his bed carefully, mindful of the IV needle in his hand and his tender abdomen. No matter what the doctor said the next morning, Jane intended to go home with his wife and daughter as soon as he was up and dressed. As he was mulling over the arguments he would use to talk his way out of the hospital, a light tap on his door alerted him to someone's arrival.

"Mr. Jane? May I come in?" a familiar voice enquired. It was Dr. Litchfield. "Are you alone or should I come back another time?" he asked, afraid to enter in case Anika was there and his face might frighten her.

"I'm alone, come in David."

Dr. Litchfield opened the door and stepped inside, wearing a bashful smile.

"Not exactly the face you want to look at so soon after…" he began, but then let the thought die a natural death.

Jane waved him over to the chair beside the bed and smiled as the man made his way towards him. He could see how guilty David felt concerning the actions of his cousin and doppelganger.

"Let's establish something David. You and your cousin Mark were carbon copies of each other physically, but that's all. That resemblance was a problem for you and me, but not anymore. He's gone now. That makes you the only one with that face. Very soon, no one will associate you with your cousin. It won't take long, so don't make any apologies for being who you are, OK?" Jane said with kindness. David visibly relaxed. It was like being pardoned for a crime you felt haunted by.

"Thank you Patrick, so generous of you after all you and your family have suffered."

"It's fine."

"How is your daughter doing?"

That was a good question, Jane thought, and one that would require weeks of observation to answer honestly. For now, KiKi seemed fine, still excited to have both parents back. How would she feel by the weekend, the end of the month? Six months from now when she could articulate her feelings better?

"Anika seems to be taking it all in stride. She was only with Stockman for a matter of a day or two, and some of that time she was asleep. We will deal with whatever anxiety she has when it presents itself. We will also get her into counselling if necessary."

"Please, if that's necessary, let me pay for it, since it was my family who caused all this" David began before Patrick raised his hand to stop him from continuing.

"David, Teresa and I have great benefits through the FBI, so we're covered. Please, don't assume the guilt for what your cousin did. I owe you my life David, trust me - we're even" he added. "Now can we please move past this and just visit before Teresa and Anika arrive?"

David shrugged and laughed. "Sure. Glad to."

"How'd you get in here anyway? Visiting hours haven't begun yet" Jane asked, eyeing the time.

"Physician's privileges. Also I wanted to get in and get out before Anika arrived. I know she'll be confused and afraid if she sees me. What did you tell her about Mark?"

"Teresa and I have told her that Mark has gone far far away and he won't ever be able to come back. She was hiding in the house when Cho shot him, so she doesn't have that trauma to deal with. As far as she's concerned he was just a really mean man who now is banished from our world. We're keeping it simple."

"Good idea. I wish I could say the same but my cousin left me with quite a few messes to deal with. I have a Psychiatric Facility where the staff doesn't even know me. He ran up ridiculous bills that I have to sort out. A lot of people think he's the real Dr. Litchfield and how I have to convince them to deal with me."

"And when all that's taken care of? Then what?" Jane asked, remembering David's desire to leave the States and do charity work overseas.

"I think it will take me at least a year to get everything straightened out in Markdale. By then, I'll know if working at the Home is still what I want to do or if leaving it all behind to work with aid groups in third world countries is what I should be doing instead. I'll know when the time comes."

"If you stay, the people here will benefit. If you sell the business and join a non-profit, then others will benefit. It's a win-win David. You'll make the right decision."

"Thanks Patrick, I hope you're right. Look, I'm going to get going just so I don't run into Teresa and Anika by mistake. Please say hello to your wife from me and tell her I wish you all the very best."

David stood up and came over to Jane, his hand outstretched in a farewell. Jane grasped it and shook it warmly. This was a good man, even if he was a doctor.

"Thanks for coming David. Stay in touch from time to time. Let me know how everything turns out."

"I will. I'd better go. Bye Patrick" David smiled, turning to leave. "Be well" he added before he slipped out of the door.

Lying back in his bed, Jane realized he was worried about Dr. Litchfield. David was damaged by Stockman too, not just Jane's own family. Who did he have to help him get over what had been a year long nightmare? There was no loving wife waiting to comfort him tonight, no child ready to kiss his worries goodbye. Whatever comfort David found it wouldn't be coming to visit him any time soon. And for that, Jane felt sorry for him.

He didn't have long to dwell on this aspect of the case as the door soon burst open and Anika ran over to Jane's bed, almost throwing herself into his outstretched arms.

"Daddy!"

"Hello Pumpkin!" he laughed as she buried her face in his neck. Turning to kiss Teresa, he marvelled at KiKi's energy.

"I think someone had a good nap this afternoon" he said.

"Yes she did. Mummy did too, for a while. Anika had a big lunch, had a bubble bath and then fell asleep in her very own bed. It certainly helped" she smiled, seeing how bright eyed the little girl was now.

"Good luck getting her to sleep tonight" Jane laughed.

"I know, but I don't care. We can let her stay up a bit longer than usual. It's been a strange day."

Jane smiled when Teresa said "we". They were a family again.

"It certainly has. Come and sit here beside me" Jane invited Teresa, patting the mattress. Anika scooted over to make room for her mother and soon all three Jane's were on the bed, cuddling and laughing, relaxing and just being a family again.

"Did you manage to sleep at all? How are you feeling now?" Teresa asked her husband with concern.

Patrick ran his fingers through Teresa's heavy curls and smiled in contentment. "I slept well. I think I got some sort of a drug cocktail in my IV to make sure I fell asleep, but I feel so much better. No nightmares."

"Are you in pain?"

"Not anything I can't handle. It's a toss up whether my gut hurts from the stab wound or the beating from Stockman. One or the other, I'll deal with it."

"Your face is a mess" Teresa said softly, running her hand over his emerging bruises. Patrick grasped her hand and kissed her fingers. "I know, but soon I'll be back to normal. It's a small price to pay to be here with both of you."

"You shouldn't have had to pay any price at all" Teresa began but Anika was getting bored by her parents' serious conversation.

"I had a baf in the big tub Daddy!" she informed her father. "Wif my duckies!"

"I wish I could have been there to see all the bubbles. Maybe later this week you can have another special bubble bath, if it's OK with Mummy" Jane winked at KiKi.

"I think that can be arranged" Teresa grinned. "KiKi, be gentle with Daddy!" she warned as Anika climbed on top of Patrick's lap.

"OK. I make you all better" the child informed Patrick, waving her hands over his body as if to magic away his pain.

"I feel so much better now Anika, thank you sweetie" he promised her.

"So... what are the chances of you coming home with us in the morning?" Teresa asked hopefully.

"100%."

"Based on...what?"

"Based on my opinion. There is no way I am spending another night in here and away from both of you. I am fine, just a little sore. My other Doctor gave me a prescription for antibiotics that we didn't even have a chance to fill yet. That's the only reason I'm in here now, to get rid of any chance of a new infection."

"What about your lungs? Are they still an issue?"

"I stopped coughing up pond water hours ago. By tomorrow we will have passed the 24 hour mark. If nothing bad happens overnight, there is no reason for me to stay locked up in here. So, why don't you get that prescription filled today and we can pick it up on the way home tomorrow?" Jane suggested, absolutely sure he was only going to be in the hospital one more night.

"Ok, I will."

Jane watched Anika play around with a toy she had brought with her and a question popped up in his mind.

"Did Anika have any nightmares today?"

"No. She slept very well, no upsets at all."

"If she does…"

"If she does, or if you do, we can handle it then. A counsellor is just a phone call away, for both of you" Teresa said with finality. She wasn't going to let either her child or her husband suffer in the future from their time at the hands of Stockman.

"Yes Boss" Jane smiled.

"I am the Boss, and don't you forget it!" she laughed.

"How could I? You're the original Pocket Rocket!" Patrick grinned, hugging Teresa close.

"I haven't heard that nickname in years!" she said with surprise. "I like it!"

"You didn't at the time I'm sure" Jane surmised.

"That was different. You were my employee back then and a smart ass, but you're my husband now. Now, it sounds nice."

"Shsss! Lisbon! Language!" Jane teased her, grabbing Anika's head and putting his large hands over her ears.

"Daddy!"

And so the evening passed until it was time to go. As usual, Teresa felt terrible leaving Patrick alone to spend long hours in his hospital room, but he promised her he'd use the time to rest and get lots of sleep. After she left, he got up and went for a walk around his room, getting his stiff limbs moving again. Soon, very soon, he'd be back home, putting this whole sorry affair behind him. His day of inactivity in the hospital made sleeping difficult, and it was well past midnight before he became the slightest bit tired. As he drifted off into a restless sleep, a nightmare descended, overtaking his mind, raising his heart rate. He tossed and turned, fidgeted and loosened his bedding in his fitful fight with sleep. At last he awoke in a start, his eyes flying open in surprise. As Patrick tried to get his breathing under control, he lay back considering his dream, and laughed. Laughed at himself and at his dream. Yes, it was a nightmare but he wasn't going to let it ruin his night or his life. Those days were over. His nightmare wasn't the sort he usually had. This time, he dreamed once again of Charlotte and Angela, but Teresa and Anika were there too, as was Patrick himself. They were at a beach, a beautiful beach, with endless clear skies and warm waves crashing to the shore. Both girls sat on a blanket playing with their dolls as Angela stood behind them smiling in motherly love. Teresa stood ankle deep in the water, then turned with smiling eyes towards her husband, reaching out to take his hand.

Anika and Charlotte had large ice cream cones in their hands, and both were sticky messes, with chocolate and strawberry ice cream dripping down onto their bathings suits and all over their dolls. Just then a heart rending scream slashed through the peaceful scene. Jane turned in a panic to see who had harmed his family. As his heart rate rose, he looked at his daughters and saw that both had dropped their ice cream cones into the hot sand and were screaming in disappointment. Yes, it was a nightmare for the girls, but for Jane, it was a normal day at the beach. Just thinking about it made Jane smile. That had been his nightmare. There were no demons stalking his family, no killers waiting to snatch his child away from him. Just a normal day at the beach. What was the message he could take from this dream?

Perhaps Angela and Charlotte were letting him know that everything was back to normal, that they were OK and Anika would be too. The worst she would suffer would be the loss of her ice cream cone. If that was a message from beyond the grave, Jane was grateful for it. And so, he smiled. Then he turned over and fell asleep again, this time peacefully. By morning he was well rested and refreshed, eager to leave and go home with Teresa and KiKi.

By 8 a.m. he was getting anxious. 'Come on, come on!' he thought, willing the door to open and reveal the doctor with his release papers in his hand. After the nurse came around with his breakfast, Jane feared he'd remain here for another full day and that just would not do. As he was preparing a list of reasons why he should be allowed to leave, the door opened and his doctor finally entered his room.

"How are you today Mr. Jane? Tired of us yet?"

"I'm fine, and yes, I need to go home. No offense, but this isn't the quietest place to recover" he added.

"Understood. Let's see how your wound looks today" the doctor said, approaching Jane's bed. He lifted Jane's gown and examined the knife wound, pleased to see it knitting together cleanly again. He checked for infection and fever, and none were evident. Next he listened to Jane's lungs, a worry since he had almost drowned 24 hours earlier. They were clear and without rattles or wet sounds. The bump on his head was healing well and Jane's colour, except for the extensive bruising on his face and body, was back to normal. All in all, he had managed to pull through his trauma very well.

After typing some notes into his Ipad, the doctor finally turned to acknowledge Jane's worried expression.

"I could keep you here for another day, but it seems you are determined to go home and finish your recovery there. So, as soon as your wife appears with some clothes, you can go. Just sign these papers and you can consider yourself released. Take it slow and easy, and come back if there is any sign of fever or infection. Deal?" he smiled, handing Jane some paperwork and a pen.

"Deal!" Jane agreed, busy reading and signing his way to freedom. When he was done, he handed the paperwork back then waited to be relieved of his IV line. As the doctor left, a nurse entered, followed closely by a very enthusiastic child and her mother.

"That's my Daddy!" Anika informed the nurse as the young woman started to remove the needle in the back of Patrick's hand.

"Aren't you a lucky girl" the nurse smiled as she rolled the IV pole away from the bed. She left and let the family say hello. Teresa stepped forward and kissed Patrick on the cheek.

"Morning sweetie" she whispered in his ear.

"Morning Teresa" he cooed back. "I sincerely hope you brought me some clean clothes" he asked, eyeing her large handbag.

"Clothes? Why? Going somewhere?" she asked, feigning surprise.

"Hand them over woman or I'll walk out in my gown and a smile" Jane warned her.

"Well since there are impressionable children around, how about we give you some pants" Teresa laughed, handing over her bag. Jane smirked and got out of bed, grabbing his clothes while he made his way over to the bathroom. Anika busied herself looking out of the hospital room window at the traffic far below. When she got tired of that, her father was back in the room, dressed and ready to go.

"Anika, did you have breakfast yet today?" Patrick asked, winking at Teresa.

"A bit…" she replied, not sure why her Daddy would ask.

"Does your tummy have room for some pancakes? Hmmm?" he asked with a grin. Teresa saw where he was going with this and chimed in.

"I didn't get any breakfast today and I'm starving. Are you hungry Daddy?"

"I could eat an elephant" Jane said, puffing out his cheeks. "So, shall we go find some pancakes KiKi?" he asked.

"Pancakes!" she yelled happily, grabbing her mother and father's hands. "Let's go!"

Teresa barely had time to grab the few items belonging to Jane before she was pulled along with him out the door towards the elevators. The three of them made their way downstairs and out into the bright crisp fall morning.

Patrick stopped for a moment and tilted his head back, his face raised up to the sun. Breathing deeply, he threw his arms wide to embrace the world. Teresa had seen him do this many times and knew it was his way of grounding himself. When he opened his eyes with a smile, she knew he was ready to go.

"OK! Lookout pancakes, here we come!" Patrick shouted and the three of them walked quickly over to their car.

Nightmares and kidnappings and death were left behind on the front steps of the hospital. That was a thing of the past. Light and happiness and peace were awaiting the Jane family.

Some of it even came covered in syrup.

The End.


End file.
